Paris none the less
by CrazyAbout
Summary: The team are forced to spend a weekend in Paris and with it all the implications that it carries for Harry and Ruth.
1. Chapter 1

He wished that he'd planned it, but then when had he ever planned anything when it had come to his private life. He was a man of quick decisions and of impulses and as he'd sat there in that quiet church listening to the voice that soothed him to the very depths of his soul, it had all seemed so simple. What would we do she had asked him, God did she have no imagination? What had made it worse was that he'd accepted her refusal without question, told her that they'd move on, instead of telling her that he loved her and that he wanted to kiss her.

Why on earth hadn't she seen it coming, he'd just blurted it out as though he was suggesting that they went for a cup of tea. A thousand times she had told him, but why the hell did that matter? This was the first time that he'd asked her and she'd so wanted to say yes, so why hadn't she and surrendered to him and let him kiss her as he so obviously wanted to do?

 _One month later._

The private flight will be leaving from Brize Norton airport at eight the following morning, read Harry on the memo that had been handed to him. On board will be the Prime Minister, the Foreign Secretary and the Cabinet's negotiator. There was an apology that this was at such short notice but the following members of section D were required to accompany them. Harry Pearce, Beth Bailey, Ruth Evershed, Dimitri Levendis and Tariq Massood . In addition to the duties listed below they would also be required to attend a church service and formal dinner on the second evening, but other than for that the dress code would be as on a daily basis. So much for his quiet weekend with Scarlet drowning his sorrows with a bottle of whisky, he muttered under his breath as he called them into the meeting room.

'Brexit,' said Harry with distaste and an expression that suggested that he'd just swallowed a wasp. 'There will be no exceptions,' he added pointedly, looking directly at Ruth, 'the negotiations are just about to get underway and the PM wants to twist a few arms.'

'Hogwarts,' countered Tariq rather ill advisedly, when Ruth pressed a button to show a picture of what look like a castle from 'The Tales of King Arthur', when it was in fact a small chateau on the outskirts of Paris.

 _Was there really someone out there conspiring against her she thought? Of all places why the hell did it have to be in Paris?_

* * *

'It'll be like a holiday,' suggested Beth, trying to lighten the mood as they packed before she and Ruth sat down to eat their evening meal. Ruth had already poured herself a larger than usual glass of wine, possibly two if what was left in the bottle was anything to go by. She'd arrived home to hear her on the telephone, obviously talking to Harry if the hesitation in the conversation was anything to go by. It was the same every evening, always with the pretext of talking about work, but with an atmosphere akin to simmering. It was worse at work, in fact it usually went way beyond simmering up to boiling point, until one or the other of them managed to say something that tipped things over the edge. It had been like that for weeks, she just didn't know why.

Harry had called her as she knew he would. He would pick both her and Beth up at five thirty was pretty much all he'd said, despite her efforts to extend the conversation before Beth had walked in and interrupted them. They really needed to talk, to sort this out once and for all whatever the outcome.

Across town, Dimitri who lived much closer to where Ruth lived than Harry was sharing a takeaway with Tariq who was staying with him overnight. Given the hour that they would have to leave home to make it to the airport, it made much more sense were he to pick Ruth and Beth up rather than Harry, but when he'd suggested it to him he'd been adamant that he would do it, and who was he to argue?

Harry was the only one eating alone as he invariably did, but for once he had resisted reaching for the whisky bottle. The next few days were work related nothing more he had to remember that, but with a far wider audience that they ever had when they were on the grid. He knew that needed to behave better than he had done for the past month, it wasn't Ruth's fault it was entirely his. Never the less, he was miserable and he was hurting.

The Harry that arrived to collect them the next morning was the indifferent Harry that Beth had presumed he would be. He'd wished them a reasonably cheery good morning, loaded their cases into the boot of his car alongside his and then predictably opened the back door for her and the front for Ruth. It was going to be a long two hour drive to the airport but she didn't care, she was intent on going back to sleep. As they joined the long line of traffic that was filtering onto the A40, Harry was forced to stop as the traffic lights turned red. They were so close together her hand only inches from his, she so wanted to touch it. It was the nearest they had been since the funeral and she could feel that her heart rate was rising, God this was awful. Beth was asleep and even if she wasn't it had reached that point where she couldn't take it anymore, she had to say something.

'Harry we need to talk about this, but not when you're driving,' was the best she could manage.

'Then sit next to me on the plane unless they expect me to fly it,' was his sarcastic but none the less very Harry reply. It was a minor breakthrough.

Once they arrived at the airport, the reality for the inexperienced Dimitri Tariq and Beth really began to sink in. They had never in their wildest dreams imagined that they would be mixing with parliamentary royalty, yet here they were boarding a plane with the three highest ranked members of the government who were going to some sort of clandestine meeting in France. They were here to do the job that they'd been trained for, this wasn't a game anymore and they really didn't want to let anybody down. Sitting across the aisle, apart from the niceties of Harry stowing Ruth's hand luggage and passing her the cup of tea that the stewardess had delivered, there had been virtually no conversation. However when the pilot announced that they would be arriving in the next ten minutes so please would they fasten their seat belts and that they were currently flying over central Paris, there was an inaudible intake of breath on both their parts. Ruth who had the window seat was watching Harry's dream unfolding in front of her and she knew if she turned to look at him that his face would be inches away from hers. She could feel him leaning across her to see it, which was far too arousing when you were sitting in an aeroplane.

* * *

The Chateau which was surrounded by acres of parkland belonged to the French Government. Generations of previous presidents and prime ministers had hosted all manner of gatherings both for work and more often for pleasure, if the rumours were to be believed. Being driven through the grounds on their way to what could only be described as a stunning building, Harry conceded that Tariq had been right and that it did resemble Hogwarts, alias Alnwick Castle in Northumberland. Not only that, the church that they were expected to attend was less than fifty metres away in the same grounds. Having been shown to their rooms by a member of the French security detail, they were invited to join their counterparts for coffee or tea which according to Ruth the French drank in equal measure, before attending a joint meeting where Harry's equivalent who he knew by reputation, explained in detail the agenda for the weekend.

As Dimitri Tariq and Beth were whisked away to check the security arrangements in the main rooms of the chateau, Harry and Ruth found themselves alone again. He couldn't quite bring himself to comment _that wasn't it a lovely setting considering that they were close to the centre of Paris,_ even though his head and his heart were screaming at him to do it. By the time that they reached the front gates and he had turned to follow the line of the wall, they had been walking for nearly twenty minutes. Ruth who was so much smaller than he was had been struggling to keep up with him and was just about to shout at him to stop, when he beat her to it. Although it had been over a month since his proposal, it was the first time that they had been afforded such privacy. She so wanted him to ask her again and give her the chance to say yes, but for the moment anyway it wasn't to be.

'Have you any idea how difficult this is for me?' he told her with such hurt in his eyes that it made her heart constrict, before he turned and left her standing with no option other than to watch him walk away.

It was bloody cold and Ruth was in no mood to be stuck a mile from the house in grounds that she barely knew, but she was damned if she was going to chase after his quickly departing figure. She had her answer and he would get it, but he would jolly well have to wait.

For what remained of the day until bedtime they didn't get a chance to speak again. Ruth was called into a meeting where she was needed to interpret and Harry went in search of his three younger charges. At dinner time much to his displeasure, Harry was invited to sit at what amounted to the top table with what he considered to be the hoi polloi, whereas he'd have much rather been sitting with his staff, or more precisely Ruth.

By bedtime on the first of the three evenings, with the security of their charges ensured, they were at last able to turn in. The ever watchful Beth could sense the increased tension. She'd hoped that perhaps it might have eased during the course of the day but clearly not. She was however the ultimate optimist and with another two evenings and nights to go, anything might happen.


	2. Chapter 2

Beth wasn't alone in being concerned about the recent change in the atmosphere on the grid, in fact Tariq and Dimitri had spent the best part of the previous evening discussing what they thought might have caused it. They had a huge amount of respect for Harry, he was the main reason that Dimitri had decided to transfer from the SBS, but he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he wasn't the boss that he'd thought him to be and whether or not he'd made the right decision. Had it not been for Ruth who he really liked, probably more than he should do bearing in mind that she was a colleague, he might well have cut his losses and left. Maybe if he used the opportunity that this weekend presented and made a big fuss of her, she might be less prickly and tell him what was going on. Having been egged on by Tariq, who was not only sharing his breakfast table but an interchange of information about the latest gadgetry with his French and German colleagues, he made up his mind. This evening at the formal dinner when Harry would be otherwise occupied, he'd turn on the charm.

* * *

Ruth had spent the entire morning shut in the small conference room listening to transcripts and conversations that would never reach the press. The latest debate was between her own Prime Minister whom she'd always assumed was more than a match for anyone, but was being worn down by a well - constructed argument from the German Chancellor.

'Impressive isn't she,' whispered a voice in her ear, that forced her to turn and face the most beautiful pair of gentle grey eyes that she'd ever seen. 'Jean Paul,' he introduced himself with a whisper, so much so that Ruth felt compelled to shake his hand.

'Ruth, Ruth Evershed,' was said in an equally quiet voice, so as not to disturb the sparring that was going on at the other end of the room.

'Enchante Mademoiselle,' came next, said with such gentleness that it could have been received in an entirely different way, had Ruth considered herself to be available. None the less she was flattered, it would have proved hard not to have been.

'Ce soir,' he continued, going on to suggest that he'd very much like to sit next to her at dinner that evening with the hope of getting to know her better.

Despite her reservations, she found herself saying yes. Harry would be occupied with the bigwigs and for her sins if the seating was how she expected it to be, she would be flanked by Dimitri and Tariq. They were fine as work colleagues she liked them both but if she had to be dressed up and entertained for an entire evening she quite fancied the idea of conversing in French. Beth would be fine she was quite sure of that, she'd seen her at breakfast surrounded by a group of eager young Germans. Maybe it was the blonde hair that did it, or was that racist or sexist, in which case she apologised.

'Yes,' she heard herself saying, 'she looked forward to it.'

* * *

In a quiet corner of the garden an off duty Harry was being equally compromised by the wife of the French PM. Bored to death at being dragged to this weekend's event just because her husband said that she had to, she was in search of another like-minded soul. Assuming that Harry's rather serious face meant that he was equally bored, rather than what he was actually doing which was planning how to get to spend some time with Ruth that evening, she sat herself down. Had she realised that despite what she considered to be his rather lovely face that he wasn't French, but the Head of Counter Terrorism with the British Security Services, she might have refrained from regaling him with stories, none of which he could understand nor wanted to.

* * *

Mercifully for all concerned mainly due to the fact that the meeting overran and Jean Paul's continuing presence, Ruth had her lunch at a much later time than Harry. It wasn't until the end of the afternoon when she was climbing the stairs to the corridor where they and the rest of section D had rooms that their paths crossed.

'Good day?' he asked her, more for the want of something to say than anything else.

'Boring and interesting in equal measure,' was a fair assessment and her short reply. Thinking better of it and checking to make sure that they were on their own and wouldn't be overheard, she ploughed on. 'Harry, about what you said to me yesterday. You clearly misunderstood what I was trying to tell you, so maybe after the dinner is over this evening we can find somewhere quiet to talk,' was said with a squeeze to his arm.

Progress he thought. I'd like that,' he said, leaning in closer.

If there was the slightest chance that he and Ruth could get past their ridiculous indecision, he wanted to be absolutely sure that he would come up to her expectations. He had no idea where this evening might lead them, he just wanted to be sure that he wouldn't disappoint her and if that included stuffing himself into this ridiculous black tie and suit combo then so be it. When he'd showered he'd done it vigorously, paying particular attention to the parts of his body that had reacted in a way that they hadn't done in years. It had been so long since he had even touched a woman that it was a real relief. He'd begun to wonder if when needed he'd even be able. Leaving his room at precisely seven thirty in order to be in the main hall on time for the pre-dinner drinks, his heart missed a beat. No more than a few metres in front of him, the subject of his desire was heading for the stairs alongside Beth. He couldn't have moved even if he'd tried and in this case he certainly didn't want to. He gazed at her retreating back unashamedly taking in every inch of her, as his body responded again. He had always loved her in red but tonight it was so much more than that, she looked exquisite. Her long dark hair that was so different to Beth's blonde was shining in the half light and bouncing across her shoulders. How the hell he was going to get through the evening he didn't know, he wanted her now.

Ruth was equally nervous if not more so. Harry might not like black tie events but she did. One of her all time fantasies was that they would arrive at an event such as this, with her as his plus one or better still his wife. She'd seen the seating plan for the top table so at least she'd be able to look at him.

It was definitely an ' _us and them_ _event_.' Despite Harry's attempts to extricate himself from the grip of the PM during the half hour before dinner she insisted that he accompany her until they sat down. His misery was compounded when he went in search of his place at the table, only to find he was going to be sitting next to his earlier in the day companion. The only consolation was that he would be facing the table where Ruth would be sitting, so if he could feast his eyes on her as well as his dinner, then perhaps the next couple of hours mightn't be quite so bad after all. Be careful what you wish for took on a whole new meaning as either side of what he now considered to be his Ruth, Dimitri and what he presumed to be some bloody young Frenchman were paying her far too much attention. Worse than that, she appeared to be enjoying it.

Harry wasn't alone in not having the evening that he'd expected. Ruth was equally unhappy. She rarely got the chance to use her language skills in an informal setting and especially with someone as intelligent as Jean Paul. Dimitri who she saw every day of her working life was for some inexplicable reason sitting on her other side and seemingly vying for her attention.

'For goodness sake Dimitri leave me alone and talk to Beth,' was said in desperation when their plates were taken away at the end of the first course.

'Perhaps we might speak in English?' suggested Jean Paul with a beautiful lilt to his voice and then without warning took her hand in his and asked her if she was with anyone?

Realising that in her naivety that inadvertently she'd got herself into deep water, she told him yes, which didn't go unheard by her a sharp eared colleague.

'Did you know that Ruth's got a man?' he asked the innocent looking Beth.

'Yes of course I did,' she told him; and if you look carefully you'll see that he's watching you at this very moment, was thought but not said.

* * *

At the end of the evening, having endured a long speech by the French president and shaken off her two admirers, Ruth headed up the stairs in search of Harry. She'd waited until the rest of her colleagues had gone ahead of her and then as arranged had tapped twice on his door. They'd arranged to go for a walk in the garden but both harboured thoughts that went way beyond that. She'd seen him leave the hall almost as soon as the meal had finished so unless he'd been waylaid by somebody, then surely he should be there. There was no Ops room as there had been at Havensworth so she had no means of knowing where he'd gone. Not quite knowing what to do and not wanting to alert either Beth or Dimitri she opted for Tariq. Hoping that she'd sound casual, she took a deep breath and tapped on his door.

'Sorry to bother you she asked his innocent looking face, but have you by any chance seen Harry?'

'Not since he headed out into the garden,' he told her, 'do you want me to go out and find him?'

'No that's fine it can wait until tomorrow morning, I'll see him then,' she told him, wishing him goodnight.

It certainly wasn't fine and more to the point it wasn't what they'd arranged. It was pitch - dark, the grounds were huge and this was Harry not some casual pick up that she was meeting. Surely he wasn't expecting her to go out there all on her own, or was he? None the less she'd built herself up for this moment and she wasn't prepared to wait until the morning. Going back into her own room she grabbed her coat and gloves and making sure that her door was securely locked behind her, she headed back down the stairs and out into the darkness.

Despite the bitter cold he felt nothing apart from self – loathing brought on by his own ridiculous jealousy. How had it been possible that he'd so spectacularly misread the signs and convinced himself that tonight she would finally be his? She'd looked radiant with Jean Paul or whatever his name was and even Dimitri had been able to make her smile, something that he never really achieved. They were young and vibrant with a lifetime of prospects ahead of them, whereas he by comparison was an old man with memories that were filled with regrets. As he'd sat there and watched her it had hit him like a thunderbolt. It was someone like them that she wanted and since his inept proposal had been struggling to tell him.

In all the years that he had known her she had never been his to lose, apart from on that God awful day beside the Thames. So why did he feel so utterly bereft?


	3. Chapter 3

Apart from the dim lighting in the entrance hall and a few bedside lights that had yet to be extinguished, by the time that Ruth stepped outside, the house and the grounds were in complete darkness. Assuming that Tariq had been right, for some inexplicable reason Harry had chosen to go out there alone. Despite what she knew to be an irrational fear of the dark, she headed in the only direction that was vaguely familiar to her and followed the same path that they had taken on the previous day. Without Harry beside her and with every step that took her further away from the house, she knew that she was doing something that would be deemed to be dangerous. The house might be filled with a multitude of Security Services agents, but both she and Harry were on their own outside. Had she not been driven by knowledge that he was out there somewhere and might be in danger, she would surely have turned back.

At the point of no return when even the lights from the house were invisible, she heard rather than saw him; wracking sobs no more than a few steps in front of her. Despite the darkness the adrenalin kicked in and she stumbled forward feeling her way as she went, terrified as to what she might find until she almost tripped over him.

'Harry for God's sake what's the matter,' was past her lips before she had time to think as was her instinct to wrap her arms around him and nestle his head against her shoulder as he continued to weep. It felt like an age before he finally quietened but eventually he managed it and attempted to find his handkerchief. He was frozen to the bone and was trying to struggle free, but in this instance she was more determined than he was and continued to cradle him as if he were a child. As he started to relax but remained silent, her mind ran away with her. Was it possible that something had happened to either Catherine or to Graham that he hadn't told her but surely there hadn't been sufficient time for him to have received a message? Or Malcolm she thought, oh please God don't let something have happened to him.

Perhaps because she couldn't actually see Harry but could only feel him, she did what in the light would have been so out of her comfort zone as to have been deemed impossible. When he finally lifted his head, she leant in and kissed him. It was a kiss born out of a huge surge of love for this complex and so usually contained man who was unburdening himself from whatever was troubling him. If answers weren't going to be forthcoming, then it was the only way that she had to express how much she loved him and to let him know how helpless she was feeling. To her utter relief, despite the fact that he was still shivering uncontrollably Harry appeared to have stopped crying and was kissing her back with a need that matched her own.

'Harry, I need to get you into bed,' raised more than a chuckle, but still no explanation as to what had upset him. It was his way it had never been any different, he would eventually tell her she just needed to be patient. Besides which explanations could wait, it was far more important that they went back inside before they both froze to death.

With every faltering step that they took, the answer as to what happens next became less and less certain. It was nearly 2am and in less than five hours they would be required to been seen at breakfast. Harry's most private of dreams had been that he would take Ruth to Paris and it would be there that for the first time, he would make her his own. He had determined that it would be special so knew that if anything were to happen tonight, in a bed with the only the width of a wall between them and their colleagues that he would regret it. None the less he and he hoped Ruth as well, didn't want to sleep alone. Continuing the ' _don't we get on better in the dark theme'_ they crept along the corridor, quietly opened the door to Ruth's room and then climbed into bed. For tonight at least it was sufficient for both of them, that he could hold her in his arms until they both fell asleep.

* * *

On the other side of the wall, Ruth's housemate was still awake. She had called earlier to say goodnight only to find that her room was locked, so Ruth had either changed the habit of a lifetime and had become a very sound sleeper, or she wasn't there. She'd guessed the latter. Hearing a door open and then the sound of the loo being flushed twice was to put it mildly, a racing certainty for a spy. The only other question that remained unanswered was if this particular night was going to turn into a definitely or maybe scenario. Roll on breakfast, she would get there early.

They certainly looked tired Harry especially, but Beth's heart sank when he bypassed their table with nothing more than a nod and curt 'morning Ruth morning Beth,' and then went to sit on his own. Jean Paul on the other hand looked as bright as a button and with all of his previous evening's ambition apparently still intact, came over and joined them.

'You're wasting your time my old son,' thought a now confident Harry as smiled inwardly and then calmly continued to enjoy his breakfast.

* * *

It was of course Sunday and at ten thirty they were required to go to church. In deference to their visitors the service that had been put together was conducted partly in French and partly in English. Opening with the European Anthem from Beethoven's ninth couldn't have been more appropriate and of course held more than a passing significance to Harry and Ruth who were sitting side by side and directly opposite Dimitri Tariq and Beth. Not a person known for going to church other than for the far too many funerals that he'd been forced to attend, Harry was as close to being at peace as he'd ever been. Whilst the various readings and prayers were being said, he was sitting close enough to Ruth to be able to link his little finger with hers whilst continuing to plan what to do when they got back to the UK later on that evening. He'd called a delighted Malcolm who was currently spending his Sunday morning on the telephone doing Harry's bidding. During the hymns when he was obliged to stand and make an effort to sing, he had the advantage of marvelling at Ruth's beautiful voice and the fact that she could sing in both languages. Had it not been for Ruth's prompting when it was either time to stand up or sit down, he would have completely lost the plot such was his daydreaming.

Departure time and the drive back to the airport was at two pm, but before that they needed to pack and then attend a short buffet lunch during which time they were allowed to mingle and to say their goodbyes. There was a certain Frenchman that Harry intended saying goodbye to with a clear and unmistakable message. He may not have been able to speak French with any confidence but he was fluent in German, so when it came to this particular young man who was Ruth's equivalent, he felt very confident that he could explain to him that the email that he had promised to send Ruth should never arrive. Ruth meanwhile was wondering how she was going explain to Beth that when they arrived back in the UK that Harry wanted to take her into Oxford for the evening, so would she mind travelling back to London with Dimitri and Tariq. Beth wasn't a fool, Ruth knew that during the church service rather than concentrate on what she should have been doing, she'd been preoccupied with watching her and Harry. Dimitri had gazed at her as well but after the previous evening's antics that came as no surprise.

'Well what a night that was,' said a voice in her ear, as she turned to face Beth and wondered not for the first time if she was telepathic or worse still knew that she and Harry had spent the night together in the non-biblical sense, in which case she might think they were past it.

'Was it?' she replied, trying to sound vague and not to dig herself in deeper but still wanting to find out just how much Beth knew or maybe had heard.

Having seen Ruth blush Beth was even more determined to keep her on the hook.

'Jean Paul's gorgeous isn't he, are you going to keep in touch?' was Beth's next attempt to wind Ruth up.'

'Probably not,' answered Ruth bleakly. Where the hell was Harry when she needed him, he would be able to shut Beth up with a single word? He was nowhere to be seen as it happened, so she continued to flounder and told her that he was all hers if she wanted him and that she would give her his email address.

She was saved by the bell or in this case Dimitri and Tariq who had wandered over to join them and taken over the conversation. Drifting away from her dreams as to what a complete evening in Harry's company might lead to, she focussed her thoughts on the last few days. It seemed inconceivable that her three young colleagues who had been with Section D for such a short space of time could have conducted themselves in such a professional manner as to make her feel proud to be working with them. Moreover how quickly they had fitted in to replace all those who had gone before. Was this how Harry had managed to cope over the years with all the losses? Oh God she thought realising that she had her answer. Harry had watched her the previous evening and not surprisingly bearing in mind what she had said, had believed what he had seen rather than knowing what was actually happening.

'Penny for them Evershed,' asked Dimitri, bringing her back to the here and now.

Rather than answer his question she looked at her watch and realised that they had less than twenty minutes before the cars would be arriving to take them back to the airport, and that Harry had arrived back in the room and was deep in conversation with Jean Paul.

'Right, lets head upstairs and get our luggage,' she said in her best I'm in charge here voice, before asking as if it were a throwaway remark if Dimitri minded taking Beth back to London.

She was certain that she saw a tiny smirk pass cross Beth's face and she knew that her own face was flushing.

* * *

The flight back at least for Harry and Ruth was a lot more relaxing than it had been on the way over. Whether the PM had achieved what she wanted they had no idea and didn't really care, they had an evening together to look forward to. Even though they had gained an hour it was still dusk by the time that the plane's wheels hit the tarmac, although unlike the skies over Paris it was a clear as a bell and a single star had appeared in the sky. It had been several years since Harry had been to Oxford but he had gambled on his assumption that some things would never change and had won. The White Heart Hotel on the outskirts of the city had stood there for centuries and as Malcolm had found out earlier, they did have a double room available. A small but non pretentious restaurant unlike the one where he had first taken Ruth out to dinner had been his second request and a table had been booked in his name at the Pilgrim's Rest close to the city centre. If Ruth wasn't happy with either of these ideas then they could easily be changed. This time he had thought things through, he would be guided by her and he was more than happy to take things slowly if that's what she wanted. Before anything else happened though, they needed to find somewhere to park the car and to have a cup of tea.


	4. Chapter 4

'Alone at last,' ventured Harry, daring to lean in and kiss her with the tail lights of Dimitri's car still visible, as he opened the door to his Range Rover and offered Ruth his hand. It had taken them almost fifteen minutes to find somewhere to park, but Harry had reigned in his temper. It had been years since either of them had last been to Oxford and as a result everything appeared to be moving so much faster. Cafes with tables outside something that would never have there when Harry was a student were everywhere, and not only that despite the cold evening they were occupied. Jane and how they had met here and the mess that he had inflicted on her briefly crossed his mind, as two young students no older than they had been then hurried by. That was the past, his future was holding his hand and he needed to find somewhere less noisy and to find the cup of tea that she wanted. Ruth though seemed intent on heading towards an evening street market that was bustling with couples and their children and where she went he intended to follow, who was he to argue?

It was six in the evening and as yet he hadn't told her that in addition to the restaurant where they would be eventually be heading that he had a room booked for the night. Before that though, he was more than happy to do whatever she wanted and to enjoy the normality of the evening. Ruth had completely forgotten her concerns about Beth such was her joy at being with Harry, to the point where she knew that she was babbling as she always did when she got excited. Harry although still worrying that he might have jumped the gun by booking a room had put it to the back of his mind, such was her enthusiasm. She'd told him that she felt loved, and that was only the tip of the iceberg.

If there were three words that described Harry when he did anything that involved Ruth, they were _with trepidation_ and _complicated_.' So when he announced that Malcolm rather than he had booked a table for them, the look on her face was incredulous.

'Malcolm,' came out with an exclamation, when he went on to explain that he'd spoken to him during breakfast that morning.

'And supposing I'd said no,' also sounded vaguely familiar although presumptuous wasn't mentioned, when Harry went on to tell her that as he knew they'd have their suitcases with them and as they'd shared a bed the previous night, he thought it was a shame to waste the opportunity that had been presented.

* * *

Booking in as Mr. and Mrs. Wynn Jones didn't require Harry to conjure up a Welsh accent for which he was extremely grateful, all Malcolm's idea of course because it was about the only thing that they'd failed to discuss. By this stage reality had kicked in and as they were shown into their room, the game that had kept them going had ceased in an instant. He wasn't the Harry of old who would have skipped the build-up and got straight to the point but then this wasn't Jane when they'd been in their early twenties or Juliet when the need for sex had been the only thing that they'd had in common. This was Ruth and to him she was the most precious creature on earth and he needed to take things steadily. Not only that it wasn't dark anymore so even though they had their clothes on, they both felt decidedly naked.

'Shall I put the kettle on?' He asked, thinking how absolutely ridiculous he sounded when the last thing either of them wanted was another cup of tea.

'May I?' She asked, for want of something better to say, waving her arm in the direction of the bathroom and indicating that she wanted to be the first to use the shower and change before they went out to dinner.

'Of course, I'm quite happy to lie here and wait,' he told her, stretching out on the bed and wondering if she was actually going to get undressed in front of him. She didn't need to, the fact that she was unpacking her suitcase and hanging up a different dress, the one that he'd last seen her wearing at the Home Office pre-Christmas function a year ago and some new underwear had the desired effect. He gritted his teeth and just about managed to prevent himself asking her if she'd close the lid, as he gazed at all manner of things that were creating havoc with his body.

The restaurant that Malcolm had chosen for them couldn't have been better. Sunday evening was always the least popular when it came to people wanting to go out, but even so it was only because there'd been a cancellation that they'd got a table. Ruth's fidgety fingers had stilled but her heartrate had tripled. Harry had taken her hand across the table and appeared to be undressing her with his eyes. How they'd even made it out of their room when he'd walked dripping from the shower in search of his clothes she'd never know, such had been her need of him in that moment. There'd been a tiny tear of water tracking its way downwards from his neck towards his chest and beyond and she'd wanted nothing more than to follow it. There was no turning back from this now, no matter what happened that night.

* * *

If at some time in the future you'd asked either of them what they'd eaten that evening they'd have been hard pressed to remember, such was the intensity of their feelings when they first came together. It was a voyage of discovery like no other that they'd ever experience made all the more beautiful because of the time that it had taken for them to reach that point. Hesitancy, giggles and a declaration of love on both their parts had culminated in a beautiful act of love and its final release. Harry had been both gentle and thoughtful until encouraged by Ruth who by then was at screaming point he'd entered her.

They were completely spent just as they had been on the previous night, but this was so, so different. It didn't matter that neither of them could stay awake as they really wanted to, there was an unspoken declaration that whoever woke up first would wake the other. Wrapped together like two peas in a pod that had always been destined to be together, they had succumbed to sleep.

It was Harry that woke first, it was only 4am but he'd slept the sleep of the dead. Ruth was still sound asleep lying part way across him, her left leg pressed against his growing erection and egging him on. Her head was still tucked under his chin with the heady scent of citrus from the shower that she'd had the previous evening and it was driving him crazy. Taking his time he let his right hand wander, trailing its way across her shoulders and then slowly down across her back towards her bum all the while taking in every available inch of her. God she was beautiful when she was asleep like this and he was free to roam. Shifting slightly he was able to adjust the way that she was lying and to guide his fingers to where he really wanted them to be. Would it be so wrong to wake her up in the same way that he'd sent her to sleep? He thought not.

Ruth was in heaven, doing her best to lie still and pretend that she was still asleep even though she had woken when Harry had first buried his face in her hair. Had he not started to initiate what was so obviously going to happen then she would have done it herself. You only ever got one first night in a relationship and this was theirs and she intended enjoying what he was doing for as long as she could, before he realised that she was awake. Maybe he would believe that she was having a wet dream, was there a chance that he would think that, because with even the minutest movement of his two fingers that were exploring her inner folds, she was wet and ready for him.

And then his phone rang, it was a Red Flash.

* * *

Such was the ferocity with which the decanter hit the red wall, crystal and whisky intermingling as it drained slowly down onto his carpet, that Ruth felt obliged to go to him. Dimitri and an inconsolable Beth had long since fled into the kitchen as they tried to come to terms with what he had told them. Tariq, sweet innocent and so often the bearer of unwanted news at the most inopportune of times, was dead.

There was no point in her knocking on Harry's door he wouldn't hear her she knew that, such was his ranting. This was the other Harry, so different form the one that had laughed at his own uncertainties barely a few hours ago. The Harry that terrified almost everyone except her who was blaming himself as he always did for the loss of yet another colleague. She could read him like a book and he would be weighing up the ridiculous balance of the two events of the previous evening and as always would come down on the side of what he perceived to be his duty rather than his own personal happiness. Well not this time Harry Pearce she told herself, getting to her feet and marching in the direction of his now whisky smelling office, we're going to have this out once and for all.

To say that Harry's office look as though it had been vandalised wasn't far off the mark but by now he was sitting on his sofa with his head in his hands. The first thing that Ruth did was to draw the blinds, the last thing that they needed was for Dimitri and Beth to be witnessing what she was about to deliver.

'Well I hope you feel better,' she chastised him. 'Is it my imagination or is there something about the grid that changes your personality so spectacularly?' When nothing was forthcoming she ploughed on. 'Harry, one of these days you'll have a heart attack behaving like this and then what the hell am I going to do with the rest of my life? Tariq dying isn't your fault and just because I was having an orgasm when it happened, which by the way was entirely down to you, doesn't make it any different. You've got two very young staff who are currently hiding in the kitchen, so I'm going to make us all a drink and then we'll go into the meeting room and we'll bloody well sort this out.'

Leaving a contrite and completely stunned Harry to contemplate what she'd said, she marched out and left him.

It was close to five in the morning and for the second night in a row they'd had virtually no sleep. They were dog tired as were Dimitri and Beth so apart for a quick appraisal as to what they already knew, they decided to call it a day until later that morning. Dimitri had dropped Tariq off at his flat and then had driven Beth home picking up a takeaway which they'd shared. Having arrived home at 2am, he'd been asleep for only two hours before he'd received a call from Tariq telling him that he had discovered something that he needed to discuss with Harry, but because he knew that Harry and Ruth were spending the evening together, could he come over and discuss it with him instead. He'd never arrived and it was then that Harry had received the call.

There was absolutely no question that any of them should be on their own that night, if for no other reason than their safety might be in question. A quiet and far less brash Dimitri opened his car door for Beth as Harry did the same for Ruth. Meeting room 10am were Harry's final instructions before they drove away.

In the same circumstances at any other time, Harry would have discarded his jacket and tie and drunk himself into oblivion. But not so tonight, he had Ruth with him.


	5. Chapter 5

'Harry breakfast's ready,' spoke volumes as to how his life was about to change. Determined that the days when he had neglected himself were a thing of the past, Ruth had made them both toast and in his case coffee and insisted that they sat down and ate it together. It had been the best part of two decades since he had shared his home with anybody let alone someone that he wanted to, something that he'd always envied Adam. Not only that, it was the first time in his life that despite or maybe because of his own personal frailties, that somebody actually loved him.

'We need to go shopping,' she'd told him when she'd peered into his virtually empty fridge, eliciting a smile. He liked the idea of we, it sounded permanent.

* * *

As soon as Tariq's body had been found, his flat had been secured. Having spoken to the Police who were currently guarding it, Harry had been assured that no one would go in and nothing would be touched or removed until someone from MI5 had arrived. He'd also called Malcolm and asked him if he was available to come back onto the grid and if so he would meet him in the foyer and would sign him in. He'd only been gone a few weeks, but is this instance Harry wanted to be sure that they stuck to protocol and that if Malcolm was able to help or discover anything of relevance, that they'd played by the rules. If anyone could pull Tariq's computer apart and find out what had been so important that he had stayed up all night and had been worth killing for, then it would be him.

In the absence of Tariq, Beth who appeared to have recovered and was back to her purposeful self, arrived in the meeting room with the usual tray of coffee. First on the agenda was to bring Malcolm up to speed with what they knew so far, which in reality was very little and the timing sketchy at best. He had left Dimitri's flat in a taxi sometime around two and as far as they knew had gone straight home. Approximately two hours later he had called Dimitri and told him that he had discovered something that he thought Harry ought to know about, but that because he wasn't sure what Harry would be doing, that he didn't want to disturb him. From that point they knew nothing other than it was his neighbour who had come home from her night shift and seeing his door open, had called the police.

That done, Harry instructed Dimitri and Beth to go back to his flat and turn the place upside down and to seize everything that was work related and bring it back to the grid. In what looked to be a senseless killing they had lost one of their own and he was determined that it should be them that would find out who was responsible, and if justified would seek retribution.

'First and foremost we need to double check our own personal security and until that is done, none of you leave this building alone, do I make myself clear,' he told them. We also need to find some extra help from somewhere, so you and Malcolm get your heads together,' he told Ruth, 'and I'll go and talk to the DG.'

* * *

Apart from listening to the briefing which had been for his benefit, Malcolm had been glancing between Ruth and Harry. It was only after the young ones had finally left the room that Harry made a move himself. It could have been seen as a throwaway gesture but the deliberate way that he way walked behind Ruth's chair and squeezed her shoulder, was a clear indication that their relationship had progressed.

Deciding that Ruth must have finally come to her senses and that despite it being cut short that their evening must have gone well, Malcolm took the gamble.

'He told me what happened yesterday,' he said to her, explaining that Harry had told him how he had lost his temper rather spectacularly and that she'd sorted him out. 'He can be his own worst enemy at times, but he needs you Ruth, he always has, it's just that sometimes he finds it hard to admit, even to himself.'

'I'll let you into a secret Malcolm,' she answered, 'and by secret I mean that this really is between you and I. Mr and Mrs Wynn Jones are fine thanks to you, so you can stop worrying about Harry.'

'And what about you Ruth, it isn't all about Harry you know?'

'I know that, but it's still early days and just for now it's a case of us getting used to being together which isn't easy when you've spent all those years on your own. There was a recent complication that I can't share with you, but we'll get there I promise you, you'll see.'

Any further explanation was cut short when the man in question strode back into the room and announced that the DG was arranging the secondment from Six of someone called Callum Reid who was an expert when it came to computers and that he'd be with them in the morning.

* * *

Tariq's flat had been turned upside down with every drawer and cupboard having been opened and the contents tipped onto the floor. Finding nothing of significance other than the remnants of what had once been his computer and his phone they bagged them up and rang the grid.

'Call in at the mortuary and ask to see his clothes,' Harry told them and then get yourselves back here.'

'Tell me about Tariq,' Malcom asked them, 'what was he like, what might he have been working on, anything that you can think of.'

A boy genius who shouldn't have died was Harry's summation, who most of the time spoke a language that went way beyond his comprehension.

'Tell me about the weekend,' Malcolm asked them, 'it's the most recent thing that Tariq was involved in. Is it possible that he could have heard or seen something that he wasn't supposed to?'

Hardly, they concluded although knowing Tariq and his ability to hack into almost anything, he may have picked up on something.

'So where was he working in relation to everyone else and what was he doing?'

'Tariq was Tariq I've got no idea, you'd know better than me Ruth?' Harry suggested.

'Well he went with us specifically to check that from a British point of view that the building was secure from listening devises and to monitor calls in the makeshift Ops room. When he wasn't on duty, apart from when we had meals together, I think that he spent most of his time in his room.'

'So if he'd heard or seen anything unusual, he'd have told you would he?

'Not necessarily, he was very thorough and he'd have wanted to double check wouldn't he?' she asked Harry.

'Sorry to labour the point,' Malcolm continued, 'but apart from you two um well you know, did anything else unusual happen last weekend?'

Ruth was saved her blushes by Harry chipping in.

'What, apart from Ruth being chatted up un-relentlessly by Dimitri and some bloody Frenchman called Jean Paul, not that I can think of,' he concluded.

With that he looked at his watch and most unlike him, he declared that it was time for lunch.

'Don't ask.' He told Malcolm.

Harry hadn't touched a drink for two days and he wasn't about to start now. He actually felt a lot better for it but for the moment he was keeping that small fact to himself. He called Dimitri and told him the news about Callum and that unless they'd found anything significant, that he and Beth should find themselves something to eat before they came back to the grid.

Malcolm smiled and Ruth positively grinned.

Following Harry's instructions that she wasn't to go anywhere on her own, Ruth took one of their other colleagues with her when she went out in search of sandwiches, leaving Harry and Malcolm to go into the kitchen and make their drinks.

* * *

'It's good to have you around Malcolm, I have missed you,' Harry told him.

'I doubt that very much,' Malcolm dared, with his usual wry grin.

'Well maybe not recently, but in the weeks since you left there's been a void that's been difficult to fill, although I did have such high hopes for young Tariq,' he confessed.

'Do you remember the night that Colin died?' he asked him out of the blue, 'and how I spectacularly lost my temper and directed it at you?'

'Water under the bridge,' Harry told him.

'Then so must this be it's what happens in this ghastly world that we move in, it wasn't your fault Harry it never is, you really have to stop blaming yourself.'

Harry refrained from asking what he and Ruth had been talking about, besides which he had heard the pod doors swish, so presumably she was back as were Dimitri and Beth.

According to Dimitri, Callum was capable of almost anything. 'With me it's bombs,' he told a startled audience, 'not that I usually do it indoors unless you'd like me to?'

Whilst he and Beth picked their way through what was left of Tariq's belongings which included his computer that was in a dozen pieces and Harry caught up with the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated on his desk in the space of a few days, Malcolm and Ruth made a start on reading the dozens of transcripts from the weekend's meeting. It took far longer than it would normally have done because they were in three languages, all of which had to be compared. At four o'clock she was so tired that she could barely see what was in front of her and with the others at a standstill until the morning when Callum was due to arrive Harry called it a day and told them all to go home.

'Not on your life,' he told Malcolm when he suggested that he would be fine travelling home on his own, 'we'll give you a lift.' With his mother long gone it meant that Malcolm spent his evenings alone, but he diplomatically declined Harry's offer that he share whatever they were going to eat.

* * *

Harry was used to surviving on little sleep but Ruth less so. Even though it was still early, she wasn't about to argue when he suggested that she grab a couple of hours and that he'd get their dinner. Easier said than done as it turned out as when Ruth curled up in Harry's bed she discovered that her mind wouldn't shut down. First and foremost she was an analyst and despite the need to sleep, she found herself considering how in the space of four short days she and Harry had gone from barely speaking to co habiting.

'We, she'd said to him at breakfast time, we need to go shopping.'

She knew what she wanted, she wanted what she had now and more, but apart from the best sex that she'd ever had, that was about all that they'd done. She had a flat where she presumed that Beth was still sleeping and a life that had preceded the past few days, she needed to think and then she and Harry had to sit down and have a sensible conversation and decide where this was going.

Harry had no such doubts if in fact that was what Ruth really had. He knew exactly where he hoped this was going, when two hours later they finally sat down to eat their dinner and Ruth told him that they needed to talk.


	6. Chapter 6

'I said I didn't cook, not that I couldn't cook,' Harry told an astonished Ruth, as he delved back into the oven and produced a tureen filled with perfectly cooked roasted vegetables which he placed on the already laid table. God, he must have spent the entire time that she'd been resting upstairs slaving over a hot stove, she couldn't believe it.

'I know you like chicken so I hope that this is OK ?' he continued, turning back to hang up the oven gloves and nodding in the direction of the two place settings where portions of chicken, sautéed potatoes and a bottle of white wine was already chilling.

'You don't have to look so surprised Ruth, I have done this before,' had her wondering exactly when and who had been standing where she was now, though quick as a flash he picked up on the vibes and told her that it was what he'd planned to cook for her on the day that he'd proposed.

'I'm not trying to suggest anything so you don't have to worry, I just wanted to cook you something special that's all,' had her revisiting that afternoon and wishing more than anything that she'd said yes, was followed by, ' I just think that it's important that we talk about this to make sure that we both want the same things, whatever they are. I don't want to presume anything anymore,' had her wondering if he was some sort of mind reader and why on earth she'd spent the last couple of hours agonising over how to broach the subject without upsetting him. 'May I,' he offered smiling and putting the cherry firmly on the cake by pulling out the chair for her to sit down.

Trying to eat when your stomach is turning summersaults and your heart rate has increased ten-fold wasn't easy for Ruth, although in all honesty Harry was equally nervous. In cooking their meal he'd done something that he'd never done before and had stumbled around his kitchen praying that for just once in his life, that he'd get something right. In the past when he'd wanted to impress, restaurants had always been his preferred choice, whereas this idea had been building slowly over the years, almost from the moment that Juliet had told him that Ruth was in love with him. He'd read somewhere that cooking a meal for someone was a really personal thing to do, besides which there were no awkward taxi journeys home to negotiate or hesitant kisses on doorsteps which was what he wanted but failed to do the first time that he'd taken her out.

The food was really good and by the time that Ruth had drunk a second glass of wine she was his, hook line and sinker. Somehow she needed to stop thinking about what was so obviously going to happen at the end of the evening and back to what she wanted to tell him. She had so many questions milling around in her head that she really didn't know where to start, but Harry had said that he didn't want to be presumptuous anymore, so she had to get a grip on her emotions and to be honest with him.

'This is lovely Harry it really is and I do love you, I have for as long as I can remember. But,' and here she stalled.

'But you don't want me to propose again, is that it?' He asked not entirely unexpectedly.

'No, I mean yes I do but maybe not just yet, although if us being together like this is what you want as well, then I'd rather not spend my evenings with Beth any more, if you know what I mean,' came out in a rush, but she'd said it.

With that one single statement, all the stars in Harry's sky came out from behind the clouds where they'd been hiding.

'I know what you mean,' he said in a voice filled with emotion as her leant across and kissed her. He had been so scared that she would run a mile when the reality of what had happened in Oxford had sunk in, and the gossip mills at Thames House and Whitehall kicked in as surely they would. Yet here she was committing herself to him and telling him in not so many words that if he got the timing right and asked her again, that she'd say yes. Malcolm had always known, Beth and Dimitri did and seemingly Tariq had, if according to what Dimitri had said was right. He'd never felt this happy. Bizarrely and for whatever reason she'd come to realise that despite the fact that his proposal had been clumsy and ill timed, that in addition to sleeping with her he could genuinely see a way ahead for them to build a life together.

'Well I guess that you need to talk to Beth and then we'll find time to go and collect your things,' came out in a whisper when he finally found his voice.

* * *

On the opposite side of London, Beth and Dimitri were sharing another unplanned takeaway. Beth had called him, concerned because when she'd arrived home she'd got the feeling that someone was watching the flat. Because Harry had told them to be vigilant and she really didn't want to end up like Tariq, she'd asked him if he'd come over and stay the night. Ruth hadn't been home since they'd come back from Paris and she was fairly, no absolutely certain that she knew where she was and who she was with. She had no intention of sleeping with Dimitri but as Ruth's bed was currently empty then perhaps she might say yes to him sleeping in it. The only other question that was bugging them both, was dare they ring Harry at this late hour?

'Beth, are you alright?' was said with a genuine voice of concern, as she told Harry what she was sure she had seen but that Dimitri was with her and could she speak to Ruth.

'Stay inside, keep the doors and windows locked and make sure that the curtains are closed. Sleep with your bedroom doors open so that you can hear each other and if you want me to, I'll get someone to come over and search outside,' was his concerned response. 'Don't hesitate to ring me again if you need me,' were his final words, before he bid her goodnight.

In truth Harry's blood had run cold as alarm bells began ringing in his head. It was Ruth's flat where Beth was living and if she was right and someone had been prowling around outside, then there was every chance that it was Ruth and not Beth that they were targeting. Despite Beth telling him not to worry and that they'd be fine, he rang the on duty call out room and arranged for a couple of heavies to go and take a look, he wasn't about to take any chances.

He then rang Malcolm and told him what had happened and gave him the same instructions that he had given Beth and Dimitri. The last thing that he needed was for anything to happen to his oldest friend.

'Is Ruth alright?' had been Malcolm's only question, as typically for him he had assured Harry that he was more than capable of looking after himself.

* * *

'What's happened Harry,' said her gentle voice,' when he finally put the phone down and then started double checking his doors and peering through the cracks in his already closed curtains, before returning to the table and picking up his wine.

'For years I've tried and failed to protect you, well not this time Ruth,' he told her frightened face, 'I refuse to lose you again.'

'So you think that this is about me do you, but why and what had this got to do with Tariq?' she asked.

'I have absolutely no idea, but until I do you never leave my side, you have to promise me that.'

'Then It's just as well you can cook,' was said to lighten the mood, although in reality it had put a real dampener on what had so far been a lovely evening.

'Come on let's go to bed,' he told her after they had loaded the dishwasher and tidied up the kitchen, skipping all the preliminaries that might have followed and led them to their second night of lovemaking.

With a tension of a different type to confront, everything had changed and the nervousness that they had experienced when they had been in Oxford had completely gone. They undressed in front of each other as though they had been doing it all their lives and then having used the bathroom climbed into bed as though it was the most natural thing in the world. There was a different need now, one born out of the fear of losing something that you had been searching a lifetime for, and it was this Harry that was holding her close to him with his eyes tightly shut and his mind racing. Ruth for her part felt safe, transported back to the days before her father had died when as a small girl she'd hurt herself or been scared. Maybe this was part of the reason that she'd fallen in love with Harry, the certainty that he would never intentionally hurt her and would protect her no matter at what cost to himself. It was certainly what the critics of their relationship my think but she didn't care any more. She did love him and for a multitude of reasons and if making her feel safe was one of them, then to hell with what people said.

'What are you thinking?' he eventually asked her, for once unable to read her mind.

'That despite what has happened or maybe because of it, I want you to make love to me,' was so unlike Ruth, that Harry wondered if he'd misheard her, but clearly not as she rolled herself away from him. He just stopped himself from saying something trite like 'at your service', which had popped into his mind as he imagined her glorious eyes sparkling in the darkness and egging him on. Was there no end to the surprises that this newly invented Ruth was going to come out with?

This time there was no phone call to interrupt them, as for however long it took before she finally fell asleep Harry took Ruth to places that she had so far only ever dreamed of. It may have taken every ounce of his willpower to make this all about Ruth but she had asked him to make love to her and make love to her he was determined to do. Slowly and with all the skill of a master at work he brought her to climax after climax until their sweat stained bodies clung to each other in resolution. It was his wife of the future that had been writhing beneath him, and by Christ he was going to convince her.

'I'll take you back to Paris if it's the last thing that I ever do Ruth Evershed,' he whispered to her sleeping form as he closed his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

'Oh that's wonderful sir,' Callum had muttered with as much sarcasm as he thought he could get away with, when his boss had called him into his office and told him that he was being seconded to Five. He'd recently acquired the lovely Anna as his girlfriend and a lengthy stay away from his desk with guaranteed long hours was the last thing that he wanted. On the plus side he was very much looking forward to meeting 'Hard Hearted Harry', as they called him on their side of the river and snooping around to find out exactly what went on inside Thames House.

'Completely dedicated, loyal to his staff and the best boss that I've ever worked with,' said Dimitri in answer to his question, when they met in the lift on their way up to the second floor. He was tempted to ask him if Harry wasn't a bit over the hill at his age, but thought better of it when the blonde that was in the lift with them added that she thought he was lovely.

'This is Callum Reid,' Harry said, shaking his hand and then continuing the introductions of Ruth and Malcolm. 'We're assured that Callum with be able to do something with Tariq's computer and then with Malcom's help we'll hopefully discover what he was working on the night that he died. Bearing in mind that the last time that Tariq was officially working was at the meeting in Paris, we have to assume that in some way it's connected to that. Ruth, update them will you.'

'Because the meeting was last minute and supposedly never happened there was no time for any preparations. We asked Tariq to come with us to ensure that from the PM's point of view that there would be traceable records. The fact that we've lost Tariq doesn't change that, because I sat in on the discussions and have a fairly good memory as to what was said, plus a copy of the transcripts. If he subsequently recalled something important that he'd seen or heard then it's lost to us, unless Malcolm and Callum are able to retrieve it.'

'Now you all know that Beth is currently staying in Ruth's flat so what happened last night should concern us all,' Harry told them, ' Beth tell them what happened.'

'Ruth was still working so Dimitri drove me home. When I got to the front door I realised that I'd left my scarf in Dimitri's car, so turned back to stop him but he'd gone. I hadn't noticed it when we'd first arrived, but there was a van parked on the other side of the road. For whatever reason it made me feel uncomfortable and I got the funny feeling that the man that was sitting in it was watching the flat and had been for some time.'

* * *

He should have been concentrating on getting through the mountain of paperwork that was burying the top of his desk, but he couldn't. Malcolm and Callum had disappeared into the technical suite and would be gone for however long it took them to piece together what was left of Tariq's last observations, whilst Dimitri and Beth had gone back to the mortuary in response to a call, telling them that the results of the autopsy were in. Sitting no more than a few feet in front of him in the red dress that he loved more than any other with lines of deep concentration on her face, was the reason that for the first time in over twenty years Harry was putting his personal feelings before his commitment to the cause. Completely unaware that Harry was gazing at her unashamedly, Ruth was continuing to plough her way through the pages of the transcripts that had possibly cost Tariq his life. In the space of just one evening, all the longing and the hurt that had been his constant companion for as long as he could remember had been dispelled in those few simple words. 'I want you to make love to me Harry.' How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on the mundane, when every fibre of his being wanted to walk out there and kiss her again? So absorbed was he in what he was thinking that he didn't hear the pod doors open or the arrival of the Home Secretary. It was a case of one nil to Towers as he watched Harry gazing at Ruth.

'Busy as usual I see,' said a somewhat amused Home Secretary, making Harry wonder just how long he had been standing there and why Ruth hadn't warned him that he'd arrived.

'Absolutely Home Secretary,' said Harry jumping to his feet, grateful for once that there seemed to be a politician that actually appeared to have a sense of humour, telling him to take a seat before sticking his head around the door and asking Ruth if she'd mind making them both a cup of coffee.

'Ah, the lovely Miss Evershed a real gem, you really need to take particularly good care of her,' had Harry revisiting his concerns about the rumour mill. 'I'm afraid that as much as I'd like it to be, this isn't a social call Harry. I've come straight from the Prime Minister's Office and I'm the bearer of bad news I'm afraid.'

For the next fifteen minutes during which time Ruth delivered their coffee, Towers offered Harry any support that he needed in their efforts to discover what had happened to Tariq along with his condolences. But not before he told him that another analyst this time French had gone missing and in view of what had happened to Tariq, there were grave concerns.

'And what about the Germans?' asked Harry.

'All present and correct so far it seems.'

'Ruth what the hell's going on here?' Harry asked her, once Towers had disappeared through the pods and she'd abandoned her desk and was sitting in his office.

'I'm nearly through the transcripts and there's nothing so far that gives us an indication as to why Tariq was killed, so I was wondering. Is it possible that it's not just the contents, but the transcripts themselves that someone is after?'

'I've lost you Ruth, what are you saying?

'Last weekend's meeting was clandestine and the transcripts are the only record. They hold a lot of information that would pave the way for a smooth Brexit, which is exactly what those who are opposed to it don't want. If they went missing then the process would stall and with it the current trends in the UK would continue, sending it further into decline. The economy Harry, it's one of the biggest threats to our stability at the moment. I was in that meeting and I know what happened.'

'Which is the exact reason that we need to get you into a safe house and move Beth out of your flat,' he echoed.

* * *

'It isn't up for discussion,' Harry told the assembled staff that sat facing him around the table. 'If Ruth is right and unless someone else has a better suggestion, then anyone who is perceived to have read those transcripts is in danger. I've arranged for a bodyguard to take both her and Beth to Ruth's flat to collect whatever they need and then move them to a safe house. Our top priority remains the same, we needed to find out who is behind this. So every loony that's out there we shake them until the pips squeak, now get to it.'

'The lunatic fringe is huge,' said Callum rather unwisely.

'Then why are you still sitting here?' Harry snapped back at him.

* * *

Had they not already outed themselves, then Harry arriving at the safe house with a suitcase rather than Dimitri who had taken Malcolm home would have been a giveaway. Harry didn't care, he'd said that he'd never let her out of his sight and he meant it. As safe houses went it was very comfortable, in fact Ruth recognised it as where she had stayed when she was babysitting Professor Curtiss during the Shining Dawn Op. Harry had arranged for a car to pick the three of them up in the morning and take them back to the grid for as many days as it took before in his words, 'they caught these bastards.' In the meantime, the only person that needed to adjust to this unusual threesome was Beth, who having described Harry as lovely had referred to the fact that he'd given her a second chance and had offered her a job, rather than to his sexual prowess. It was Paris re-visited but this time a little too close for comfort.

'It's one of my all- time favourites,' announced Beth, as she thumbed through to paper to see what was on TV, going on to say that she'd always fancied Clint Eastwood and that 'In the Line of Fire,' started at nine and she'd like to watch it. It had been years since Harry had sat down for an evening and watched anything but the news, but having been outvoted he found that after the first half and hour he was beginning to enjoy himself. That was when the mood of the film changed from the serious to the bedroom scene where Clint and his co agent divested themselves of their clothes, pretty much as he and Ruth had done in Oxford. As Clint and his colleague got down to business and then the phone rang, Ruth giggled and Harry made a dash for the kitchen, announcing that he was going to put the kettle on.

'Oh I love this bit,' said Beth.

If there was one thing that was essential to surviving a tension fuelled OP, it was that when you walked away from it even for a few hours that you were able to school yourself to relax. Alone, Harry had turned to drink to fill his empty evenings and even longer nights whereas now he had Ruth. From where he stood waiting for the kettle to boil he became a frustrated husband, who at the end of a normal day longed to take his wife in his arms and tell her that he loved her but unable to do it until her infuriating friend went home.

'Harry our cover's blown, we're sharing a bed for Christ's sake, everyone knows,' Ruth told him, rolling over and doing what she knew Harry liked best to help him relax as he lay like a ramrod worrying about what Beth might be thinking in the next room. Ruth had got used to a whole lot more than a cuddle before she went to sleep and she was damned if the current situation was going to deprive her of a goodnight kiss. Besides which, she needed to forget about the reason that they were there and there was no better way to do that than to get Harry to kiss her.

Beth had no intension of thinking about what her boss and his analyst were up to. He was no Clint Eastwood in her book, although Ruth obviously thought so.

* * *

The car arrived at eight on the dot and within twenty minutes they were back on the grid and geared up for another long day. Dimitri had called for Malcolm and Callum had made his own way from what he considered to be a very successful night with the lovely Anna. Harry was due in Whitehall for a meeting with the PM at nine which left Ruth in charge to organise the troops. The grid was packed to capacity with analysts pulled in from other sections to speed up what needed doing, primarily to check the recent intel and chatter in an effort to discover who was behind what was going on. It felt strange sitting in Harry's Office, but he'd insisted that she use it whilst he was away and it certainly made it easier for her to concentrate. The French were involved as well, now that they had an agent missing and it was Ruth's job to liaise with them. Would it be Jean Paul that answered the phone at the other end, she hoped not.

'Dragged from the Seine, the previous evening,' she told a concerned looking Beth, when she brought her a cup of tea, although he hadn't drowned was all she'd been told. Beth relayed the information that Tariq had been given a lethal injection of something so far unidentified, which whoever she had been speaking to was going to pass on the their coroner.

Much the same as Harry generally did, she didn't hear his door open until his head poked round from outside. She was sitting with her head on one side and the end of her pen in the corner of her mouth as she always did when she was deep in concentration. It was one of his favourite expressions.

'No stay where you are,' he told her, 'I'm going to talk to Malcolm and Callum and see how they're getting on. What about that lot, any progress?' he asked her, indicating the now packed desks on the grid.

'Plenty of faces which Dimitri and Beth are going through, but no one that could have pulled this off, not yet anyway.'

Malcolm and Callum were making slow but effective progress and although it would never resemble a computer, they assured Harry that within the hour they were pretty confident that they would at least be able to see what Tariq had been doing.

Harry liked the grid when it was productive like this, he got a buzz from seeing his team working together for the same cause albeit in this case an all - together serious one. It posed a question which as yet he couldn't answer, would he be able to walk away from it and never look back much the same as Tom had and those that had survived before him had? It would be one hell of a life change but the reason for the question was sitting behind his desk and he so wanted to make it happen.

* * *

Face upon face was flashing across Beth's screen, they had been all day. It was late in the afternoon when Ruth wandered over to tell her to take a break before everything blurred as it surely would. Had she not arrived when she did and had Beth not paused her screen, it might well have taken at least another day before Ruth shouted for Harry. There was a face that she recognised, she just had to remember where from.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry disliked prisons almost as much as he disliked hospitals, but on this particular morning with Ruth walking beside him and Dimitri as their back up should they need it, he was in better spirits than he had been for some days. They'd arranged that interview that he was about to conduct would be held in complete privacy, so other than his concience there would be no record should something go wrong. They'd rehearsed their strategy until they knew it back to front, with a planned let out for Ruth if she needed it.

'It's still not too late,' Harry told her, 'I know how you felt after the last time that you met him and nobody is going to criticise you if you change your mind and want to go back to Thames House.'

'I'm fine, really I am. I just need to be sure that I won't have to sit too close to him,' she told him, trying and failing to hide how she really felt.

'I promise you that that's not going to happen, I'll be doing all the talking. The rooms been set up and you and Dimitri will sit to one side, we all know our roles in this.'

With Adam gone, Ruth was the only witness as to what had happened on the day that Auntie May had been killed and Moran's thugs had held a knife to her throat. If he recognised her and they were banking on the fact that he would, she was there purely to bait him. Knowing that he had a propensity to lose it spectacularly if anyone insulted or made a move towards Ruth, Harry had suggested that Dimitri come with them, primarily to look after Ruth but if needs be to step in and calm the waters.

For the three years of the life sentence that Moran had so far served, he'd been treated no differently than any other prisoner. The leverage that they intended to use was that he give up the whereabouts of his cronies one of which Ruth had identified, or he'd spend the rest of his life sentence in solitary. Telling Harry that she was fine when they were walking towards the prison gates was one thing but once she got inside the wing that housed the most dangerous of the inmates, Ruth felt entirely different. With every set of steel gates that were opened and then locked behind them, she felt more and more vulnerable to the point of feeling claustrophobic.

They were close to the moment when they would come face to face with Moran and realising that Ruth getting more and more edgy, Harry reacted quickly.

'Hold Ruth's hand,' he ordered Dimitri.

'Well isn't this nice,' said Moran with distain and a barely contained flash of recognition as Ruth walked into the room. 'I see you've brought the rest of the family this time, who's this one then, your Dad?' he said, directing his question at Ruth and pointing at Harry.

Harry sat apparently in perfect control although he felt far from it after Moran's insidious remark. He still held all the cards despite Moran's apparent arrogance and the longer he waited to answer him, the stronger he knew his position would become. As he watched him, Moran got visibly more agitated presumably trying to weigh up if his visitors really were from MI5 and why Lesley and whatever the other one was called were still holding hands.

'Seen yours recently?' asked Harry after a while, responding to what Moran had said but knowing full well that one of Moran's real issues was the way that his father had died.

'Genius,' whispered Dimitri to Ruth.'

They could see that Moran's breathing had increased and that he was barely containing his temper, but he held firm and there was still a look of curiosity in his eyes as he pondered what they wanted of him after such a long time.

'Lesley's brought a family snap for you to look at,' Harry told him, placing the photo in front of him, 'and we'd very much like to know who he is.

'Never seen him before,' said Moran rather predictably, until Harry stood up and leaned forward with his hands on the desk and told him in no uncertain terms what would happen if he didn't regain his memory.

'Thugs for hire that jump on whatever bandwagon offers to pay them,' Harry told Dimitri in answer to his question, having already told him that it was time he let go of Ruth's hand once they were back outside. 'You go back to the grid and tell Malcolm that we'll be half an hour behind you, there's somewhere else that Ruth and I need to go, and by the way thanks Dimitri,' he added.

* * *

'I needed a break from this and suspect you do too,' Harry told her, opening the car door for her and scanning the street before driving off in search of somewhere quiet to find something to eat and drink.

Predictably he headed for one of his favourite haunts and to a bench that was situated in Island Gardens opposite the observatory at Greenwich. It was far enough away from Thames House to have been considered theirs and it was where he had always come when he had wanted to feel close to her during the years when they had been separated. He knew that they should have gone straight back to Thames House, but he just needed a few quiet moments to marshal his thoughts and who better to help him to do that than Ruth.

'I'm sorry that you had to be put through that,' he told her, 'I know how scared you were.'

They didn't pretend or keep things from each other anymore, so for the next few minutes Ruth told him what she and Adam had talked about after the day when she'd really believed that she was going to die.

'He talked a lot about Fiona you know and I asked him how they had first met. I told him how romantic it sounded and do you know what he said?'

'No but I assume that you're going to tell me,' he said, smiling at her with a smile that curled her toes.

'You'd just walked past my desk and looked at me just as you are now, it was an absolute giveaway. He leaned forward and told me that love was out there for everyone, but that it was only the lucky ones that found it.'

'And is it?' he teased her.

'Depends what comes next?' She replied, teasing him back.

'Back to work unfortunately and then maybe this evening we can avoid the torture of another of Beth's favourite films and find something else to do,' he said grinning.

Ruth wasn't a shrinking violet anymore and she really wanted Harry in every sense of the word. It was up to her to push him, so maybe or maybe not she thought.

* * *

They had names, now all they needed were the possible locations. With the temporary staff gone with a big thank you from Harry, normal service had resumed. Tariq had listened in on a phone call between one of their suspects to someone in France but as yet they had no idea as to who that was. This was what he had tried to tell Harry and subsequently Dimitri.

'There's someone else out there that we have yet to identify,' Harry told them, when they were enjoying their delayed afternoon drinks around the table in the meeting room and hearing re-run of what had happened at the prison. 'This lot are here to do the dirty work nothing more. So called football hooligans are a case in point, I'm not denying that they exist, but their numbers are always increased by a small minority that want to add to the chaos, they're professional trouble makers. In this case though it's far more serious with the country's future being put at risk. Whatever any of us may think of the ballot result, it's our duty to support it.'

Ruth went on to tell them about the last time that she and their suspects had met, realising that apart from Malcolm that none of them had met Fiona or Adam.

'I really believed that I was going to die that day,' she said, with an abridged version of the story that she had told Harry. 'These are truly dangerous characters and until we find them we all need to be very careful.'

'Is there a chance that they could have been in Paris when we were?' Beth asked Harry.

'Unlikely, but someone else was, someone who has a grudge about our relationship with Europe and the issues that Brexit has thrown up.'

'Which are?' Harry asked Ruth.

'The subjects discussed at the meeting were border controls and the free passage of European citizens into and out of the UK, plus the impact that Brexit will have on our trade policies, both of which are potentially huge,' she told them.

'Right, thank you Ruth, I think that's enough for one day.' Harry announced, as an audible sigh and a combined thanks Harry went round the room. 'Go home and sleep on it and come back to me with your ideas in the morning, Beth ring for our car would you.'

'Dimitri's offered me a bed for the night,' she answered not so subtly, 'I'm sure I'll be safe with him.'

* * *

It was an extremely happy Harry that having been driven back to the safe house without Beth had divested himself of his jacket and tie and was scrabbling through the fridge trying to decide what could be considered to be dinner. Their minders had ordered a takeaway but they'd had one the previous evening and besides which he actually fancied cooking.

'Pasta,' suggested Ruth, creeping up behind him and putting her arms around his waist, relieved after what had been a very stressful day, that they were practically on their own. Someone had obviously ordered extra supplies since they had left that morning and there were plenty of ingredients to suggest that it had probably been Malcolm.

'Does Catherine know about me?' Ruth asked him seemingly out of the blue, when they were sitting either side of the table. It had been Moran's comment about Harry being her father that had popped it into Ruth's head.

'Yes, in that there is somebody but no in that she doesn't know who it is,' was the usual ambiguous Harry answer.

He then went on to explain that quite by accident that he had bumped into Jane not long after she had gone away and that she'd read between the lines and had asked Catherine to go round and see him.

'It was more out of curiosity than anything else I suspect, but although I couldn't tell Catherine what had happened, I did tell her that I loved and had lost somebody.'

'And what did she say?'

'Not much really, I suspect that she thought that I'd been bed hopping again as was always inferred by her mother, which of course was never the case. Then of course you came back and Ros took up the cause.'

'Ros?'

'Yes. I was continuing to act like a bear with a sore head, so according to Malcolm Ros apparently said 'let's give Harry what he wants', which was when she sent Jo to meet you. I suspect that she never forgave herself for splitting us up in the first place.'

'So we've got Ros to thank for the fact that we're sitting here now.'

'Not entirely, I'd like to think that we'd have made it on our own given time, although with our track record who knows.'

Having bailed before the film had barely got underway the previous evening and with Ruth's encouragement that it was really good, Harry relented and they watched it again, this time on catch up. The bedroom scene had exactly the same effect on Harry as it had the previous evening, except that this time he stayed put on the sofa stroking Ruth's legs that were across his lap as he looked forward to something that amounted to the real thing, bearing in mind that there would be no one occupying the adjacent bedroom. At 10pm as the credits rolled around, he went to tell their minders that they were heading for bed and to wish them goodnight as Ruth climbed into bed with her anticipation levels rising as she heard Harry's footfall on the stairs. Ros had obviously known as had Jo and now Catherine. She had only seen pictures of her up until now when there was every probability that she would meet her, especially if she said yes to Harry when he asked her again. God, she might even get to meet Jane and how would that go, she had to stop analysing everything, she really did.

* * *

Lying in his prison cell in what Moran now knew to be solitary, he turned his mind to how to get a message to his boys. He'd played no part in what they had been up to but at least they'd continued to fight the fight and he was pleased about that. He might not be out their fighting any more, but if he could bring down that smug bastard who had lied to him that morning, then it would offer him some sort of satisfaction. He needed to find himself a guard that he could trust.


	9. Chapter 9

'It's me.'

'How the hell did you get my number?'

'Never mind how, it's the why you should be worrying about.'

'Why then?'

'Because I've had sodding MI5 here asking me questions about you and the others, not that I told them anything because there's nothing to tell, well not that I know about anyway. They actually had the gall to bring that bitch Lesley with them?'

'But that's impossible, she hasn't left the house.'

'Well clearly she has, either that or it isn't her that you've been watching.'

'So who else came with her?'

'Some arrogant older bloke who did all the talking and another younger one who according to my sources and the way he behaved when he was here, she's in a relationship with. He's called Dimitri Levendis apparently, not very English sounding is it what do you think?'

'Just up our street then and another one that we need to put on our list, I'll ask around a bit, thanks mate,'

'So you're still working for the cause what's the latest news out there, are the others still with you?'

'Absolutely, and we've extended our exploits across the channel. We're a really multi - national bunch thanks to that very satisfactory vote and so much more difficult to trace.'

'I'd better keep watching the news then and good luck mate.' Ended the conversation that Moran had been able to have on a pay as you go phone that he had been given in exchange for more money than he'd wanted to part with. Never mind needs must, especially if it meant keeping his soldiers safe whatever they were up to. They should have cut her bloody throat when they had the chance, well maybe this time they would and then dump her in the Thames for the fishes to enjoy.

* * *

On the opposite side of the channel, Jean Paul had been awake all night, most of it spent at the morgue in an attempt to hide from his boss. With his colleague dead and every conceivable record that had been made at the meeting seemingly with him on the bed of the Seine, he was in deep trouble. His instructions had been to liaise with his colleague directly after the meeting but he hadn't done so, caught up in the moment when he'd met Ruth and letting it cloud his judgement he'd taken his mind away from the seriousness of the situation and why they'd been asked to attend this weekend. He'd watched her and listened to her gentle voice, so alive and attentive that he had barely heard what had been said, convinced that it didn't matter because Maurice would be able to tell him later. Now he had been given a deadline of a day to produce a copy of the transcripts before his boss castrated him, had been his exact words. Ruth was the only one who could bail him out and he knew exactly how to contact her, he'd kept her email address. But he also knew that castration might be preferable to what her boss had threatened to do to him if he ever made contact with her again. He needed an ally, someone that he could trust who between them might be able to uncover the group that were trying to de-stabilize the current situation. Ideally it should be someone from MI5 who would be able to track down the members at the British end of things and together they would be able to connect them to the names that he already had. Castration or worse, he had to contact Ruth and ask her to speak to her boss on his behalf.

* * *

It was still early when Harry woke up and stretched his now relaxed body before rolling onto his side towards Ruth. She was still asleep beside him, her hair splayed out across the pillow and with a look of pure serenity on her face. God how he loved her, when had he not he thought to himself as he slipped out of the bed and went to use the bathroom. The days when he would have raced onto the grid as early as possible, full of expectation that he would be able to spend a few precious moments with her before the others arrived belonged in another lifetime, such was the change in their relationship since the trip to Paris. That Harry Pearce would have berated himself for indulging in wanting to go back to bed for a while longer, but things were different now and with no messages or updates overnight he had every intension of doing it. Dare he wake her up and make love to her again as he had done the previous night they still had plenty of time, it was so what he wanted.

Ruth stirred having felt the cool air that had invaded the bed as Harry had lifted the covers. She had been so comfortable and warm and had just about been to roll over to face him when he'd moved. It was still dark so surely he wasn't planning on going into work any earlier than they needed to, especially after what had happened the previous night. She could still feel him inside her such was the way that they had come together, there seemed to be no end to the ways that he could arouse her and to think that she had told him that they couldn't be closer, what an absolute idiot she had been. She closed her eyes again, trying hard to contain the smile that was spreading across her face as the beginnings of an orgasm brought on by the mere thought of Harry threated to arrive. With the promise of a repeat performance even if it meant them skipping breakfast she didn't have to wait long, as Harry slipped back under the duvet and commenced a now familiar ritual. God she was in heaven.

A quick cup of tea and in his case a coffee was followed by another first as Harry turned on the shower and with the pretext of saving both time and water, persuaded her in there with him. Two sets of hands covered in both shower gel and shampoo turned the next fifteen minutes into an experience that involved very little in terms of the usual morning shower for either of them as they brought each other to new heights as yet to be experienced, as was a naked Ruth wrapped in a fluffy white towel who sat straddling his lap telling him that she wanted to dry his hair. She might well have enough energy left to do it, but by now a completely spent Harry was wondering if he'd have the strength to make it out of the shower room, never mind as far as Thames House.

'Christ Ruth, you'll be the death of me,' didn't come close as she kissed him again.

* * *

As soon as the plane wheels hit the runway, her excitement level rose. It had been two years since she had last seen him when despite his efforts to tell her that he was alright, she had known that he was far from it. She felt guilty that she hadn't kept in touch more often other than just a Christmas card with a few words to tell him that she was safe. Well she intended making up for it now when her mother was away with her new friends on another of her 'start again courses', whatever the hell they were. At last Jane appeared to have moved on and had got past the needy stage when she'd used her as a dumping point after the divorce, and had put the blame fully on her father. Well she knew differently now and she needed to talk to him about it, especially as the last time that she'd seen him he'd seemed so lost and not long recovered from another beating which she couldn't understand, because as far as she knew he never came out from behind his desk. She was also curious as to who this woman was that he still loved and wanted to know exactly why she'd apparently left him.

Once she cleared customs it was nearly 7am but she desperately needed to use the loo and to find a decent coffee before ringing him. Despite everything that had happened to drive them apart, she longed to hear his gentle voice again something that he had always saved for her and so different from the dreadful hollering that had gone on between him and her mother. No one said her name quite the way that he did, it had always made her feel safe no matter what scrapes she got herself into. He had to be at home, surely he hadn't gone to work this early and he never took a holiday she knew that, so why wasn't he answering his phone? Well sod it, she'd go to where he worked and surprise him providing that she could talk her way in which she had no doubt that she could, either that or she'd ask to speak to Malcolm, he would be able to vouch for her.

'He's a wee bit late this morning, I'll leave it to him to explain,' Malcolm told her as he gave her a cuddle, when an hour later he'd been asked to come down to reception by the security guard and confirm that the young lady that was standing in front of him was in fact Harry Pearce's daughter as she claimed. 'He's not living at home at the moment that's all I can tell you and he's had to change his number,' sounded very ominous to someone who had an imagination as vivid as Catherines. 'We're very busy right now so come upstairs and I'll get someone to sort you out with a coffee while you wait.' Had Catherine plus her suitcase which had been scanned, following Malcolm towards the lift.

'Who's that?' Asked Dimitri of Beth, as though she was supposed to recognise everyone that came through the pods as Malcolm followed by Catherine walked onto the grid.

He didn't have long to wait, when Malcolm came over and introduced her as Harry's daughter and asked Beth if she'd look after her until Harry arrived.

'I have an urgent call to make,' he told her, as the ever astute Beth smiled back at him, knowing full well who he was going to call.

Catherine plus a large suitcase meant that she had been away for a while, during which time her father had started watching Clint Eastwood films with his analyst.

'No we won't, we're walking in together,' was Harry's response to Ruth's suggestion that they arrive separately, after Malcolm's message that Catherine was currently in the meeting room with Beth. 'I had every intension of telling her that you were back and that we're together, I just hadn't expected it to be at Thames House that's all. Give me about ten minutes and then come in, she'll be fine I promise you.'

Surprised, pleased but more than anything curious to know more, summed up Catherine's reaction to what Harry was telling her about Ruth and their relationship. The fact that she was apparently back in his life and was sitting not more than a few feet away on the other side of the wall had her itching to race back out there and see her, but she knew better than to argue with him and did as he asked and stayed put. The last time that she had seen her Dad he had looked haunted was the best way she would have described it and she had been really concerned that it would be exactly the same today. And yet here he was looking ten years younger and actually smiling when he talked about this woman, which had her struggling to remember when she'd last seen him smile, it was a revelation.

'This is still very much my place of work and we're in the middle of a very complex operation, which is why we're currently not living at home,' told Catherine that he and Ruth were living together and that unless she went to her mother's empty house which she didn't want to do, that she had nowhere else to go. She'd imagined that she'd be able to stay with him and that they'd spend ages just the two of them together, catching up on what had happened in both their lives since he had left when she'd been small. Well she wasn't planning on going anywhere certainly not now, so there was still plenty of time.

In a personal sense, Ruth had never felt as nervous as she did now as she tried to balance the tray with three drinks as she stood outside the meeting room door. She'd been to hell and back on more than one occasion during the course of the time that she'd known Harry but in all her imaginings, meeting Catherine without any warning or preparation hadn't been one of them. She'd spent five of her allotted ten minutes in the ladies wondering why the hell she hadn't worn something that suited her better and whether it was actually possible to flush yourself down the toilet. It was only Beth bless her heart thought Ruth, that had persuaded her to come out of there and had handed her the tray of drinks that she was now carrying.

'You look lovely, you'll be fine just take a deep breath, I bet she's just as nervous as you are,' were Beth's parting words, as she opened the meeting room door and Ruth walked in.


	10. Chapter 10

Amongst all the things that Catherine had imagined her father to be, a gentleman had never been one of them, but the moment that the door had opened and Ruth had walked into the room carrying the tray of drinks, he had sprung to his feet and taken it from her. Not only that, he had pulled out a chair so that she could sit down, his eyes never leaving her face. It was extraordinary and although it all happened in the matter of a few moments, Catherine's perception of her father changed in that instant.

'Catherine this is Ruth, Ruth this is my daughter Catherine,' was said in such a confident voice as he looked between them, that it alleviated any pre - conceived tension that either of them might have been feeling. Prior to Ruth arriving she'd done most of the talking, so apart from him telling her that Ruth who would be bringing them their coffee was the woman that he had told her about that for whatever reason he'd apparently misplaced for a couple of years, he'd said little else. That left her almost totally in the dark apart from what Malcolm had said, in as much as they were all very busy at the moment and for a reason that as yet she didn't know, he wasn't living at home. She'd had a long flight plus a drive both to and from the airports and was really tired, so when Harry suggested that if she wanted to get her head down for a few hours whilst he did some work and caught up with his staff that she could use the couch in his office, she jumped at the chance.

'Right everyone meeting room now,' he said, closing the blinds and the door behind him and going back into his grid Harry mode. 'We got nothing out of Moran, which considering I threatened him with solitary suggests that he doesn't know anything, or if he does he's more clever than we give him credit for. Have any of you been able to put a name to the one and only face that we do recognise?'

'Not a sausage, it's as though he doesn't exist' Callum confirmed. 'Other than what Ruth told us, it's almost as though he's used the last three years to disappear or maybe he's just dead?'

'Well keep on looking,' he told them, 'because I don't want to spend the rest of my life living in a safe house eating takeaways with two security guards, so until we find out whose been watching Ruth's flat and we sort this mess out, we keep at it.'

With his office now occupied by his sleeping daughter, Harry found himself without somewhere to sit. Needing to talk to Ruth and decide what on earth he did with Catherine as she apparently didn't want to go to her mothers, he pulled up a seat next to her at what used to be Zaf's desk.

'I daren't risk turning the clock back by telling her that I'm too busy to spend time with her, so if it's alright with you she'll have to come to the safe house with us,' went almost unheard, as Ruth who was only half listening had turned on her computer for the first time that morning to discover that she had received an unexpected message from Jean Paul. Urgent was the heading so whatever Harry's reaction she had to open it, as she glanced around the now fully occupied grid and wondered how best to tell him. The content of the message pressed her into action, they were after all supposed to be working with the French even if this particular Frenchman appeared to have behaved like an idiot for the second time in the space of a week. The fact that he had lost the transcripts wasn't a problem they could rectify that, but whether or not Harry would allow one of his field officers to make a trip back to France was an entirely different question. The only other option and probably a better one from their point of view, was that Jean Paul should come to London and onto the grid, but heaven knows how Harry would react to that idea.

The discussion rapidly reached the point where they needed to take it away from other ears and eyes, so telling Malcolm that if either of them were needed that they'd be on the roof terrace, Harry went in search of both their coats and headed towards the pods.

Never one to let an opportunity pass him by or to make a remark that was totally inappropriate, Callum turned to look for Malcolm.

'Lover's tiff is it?' he asked, when Malcolm arrived back to his desk, to be told in no uncertain terms, 'that it was none of his business, to show some respect and hadn't he got work to do?'

There was an east wind blowing and Ruth wished that she'd thought to bring her gloves with her, as Harry stood as close to her as he could without actually touching to shelter from the impending rain. It was the first time that they had been onto the roof terrace for as long as she could remember and for her and for him too she imagined, it brought to the surface a whole mixture of memories and emotions. Harry then interrupting her thoughts by suggesting that he should go back to Paris himself rather than send either Dimitri or Beth, had her nearly combusting.

'In theory it's a good idea but in practice it's an absolute non – starter Harry,' she told him, her voice rising above the increasing wind.

'Why, are you suggesting that I'm not capable?'

'Based on the fact that you haven't been in the field for years never mind missed endless annual medicals then yes, and I know I'm getting emotional about this but you could get yourself killed Harry so just for once I'm putting us before the job, now tell me I'm wrong?' was Ruth in full flow and breathless.

'Well then what do you suggest, because I'm not sending Beth or Dimitri over there on their own, they're far too young and inexperienced,' was Harry's adamant but more controlled response.

'Then there's only one answer Harry, you have to invite Jean Paul to come here,' had exactly the effect that Ruth had been expecting as she watched his hands come out of his pockets and tighten on the railings.

She changed tack, knowing full well that they needed to get back down to the grid before they either froze to death or someone came looking for them and that it wasn't doing either of them any good, never mind their newly found relationship, by arguing about something that in reality wasn't a problem.

'Harry listen to me,' she told him, 'I wouldn't go out with Jean Paul if he was the last man on earth and yes I was flattered that he chatted me up, but then so should you be.'

'How so?' he asked her, trying hard not to concede that she was right as usual and at the same time control the smile that was threatening to adorn his face after what she had just said. They were having what amounted to an argument and neither of them had walked away and that was an important first.

'Well for one thing it means that you've got someone that someone else wanted, even if it was only for a weekend, namely me. It's you I'm in love with Harry surely you must realise that by now and by the time that we get to the end of this Op, Jean Paul will be just a distant memory, for both of us.'

'Well then you'd better get back downstairs and send him an invitation,' Harry told her, 'but he's not staying with us,' was said with what amounted to a chuckle.

Tell anyone that is looking for us that we'll be on the roof, Harry had said, not expecting that it would be Catherine that would ask Malcolm where they were. But Catherine it was who had opened the recently oiled door which no longer squeaked to see her father kissing Ruth. It was a kiss that said I'm sorry, please forgive me, but Catherine didn't know that. What she saw was a kiss full of tenderness and love and rather than turn tail and run which she knew she really ought to do, she relished in the moment. This was the father that she had longed for and maybe through Ruth she'd got a chance to get him back. Realising that they must surely be going back down to the grid soon and if she didn't make herself scarce they would see her, she slowly closed the door behind her and headed down the stairs.

By the time that Harry declared enough was enough for another day and asked Beth to call his driver, they had eliminated several more sheets of faces and names from their possible list of suspects. It was a painfully slow and boring process and at one stage Catherine who has swapped her father's office for the seat next to Ruth, asked her how they could bear doing it.

'It's a big part of what we do, all of us except your Dad of course and I couldn't begin to explain what his job involves.'

'Can't or won't?'

'Both really, it's not the glamourous one that people perceive it to be, but believe you me it takes someone extraordinary to be able to do it and none of us other than him come anywhere close.'

'And you're not biased I suppose?' Catherine asked, smiling at her.

'We'll talk more tonight I promise you, but our work and home lives have to be kept separate and it's very rare that relationships survive in this job, it's almost impossible.'

Now back in his inner sanctum, Harry had been making another attempt at reducing the huge pile of files that seemed to be growing by the day, none of which according to Ruth he really needed to read just sign. As was always the case, he found himself distracted by her as he watched her continuing to work, but this time she was talking to his daughter. He had no idea what they were talking about but no doubt Ruth would tell him later, with or without him asking. As much as he was pleased to have Catherine back in his life, the current situation presented him with another problem in that he now had two people that above all others he needed to protect. He knew that he was breaking the rules by letting Catherine stay at the safe house with them, but to hell with it, it wasn't a hanging offence and who wouldn't be doing the same thing if it were their daughter. Another potential stumbling block then struck him. It had been difficult enough having Beth staying with them but Catherine sleeping under the same roof as them was completely different. He had told her that he loved Ruth but love came in all shapes and forms and could it possibly be that she considered their relationship hadn't developed beyond them being friends. He was just beginning to enjoy the advantages of an assertive Ruth and the thought of abstaining from what had virtually been an almost nightly occurrence was not something that he was looking forward to. At least he didn't need to consider Jean Paul anymore, Dimitri and Beth were going to take care of him.

He was dragged from his musings by a call from his driver and the arrival of their security guard who ushered them through the pods.

* * *

'I'll cook tonight,' Ruth offered, when Harry had shown Catherine to her room and then arrived back in the kitchen looking a lot more comfortable without his suit and tie. 'It'll give you two a chance to catch up.'

The journey home back to the safe house had been a quiet one, with Harry knowing full well that Catherine would quiz him about Ruth at the first opportunity, Catherine planning how best to do it and Ruth deciding to let them get on with it.

'So,' said Catherine for a second time when Harry hadn't answered her question as to how long he and Ruth had been living together.

'Ten days!' came out as a real exclamation followed by the question, 'but hadn't he known her for the best part of six years?' As Harry went on to remind her that work had kept them apart for two of those years.

'It came to a head when we were forced to go to Paris together at the end of last month,' had Catherine wondering how in the space of ten days, they had managed to go from barely speaking to where they were now which was obviously adoring each other, until he let slip that he'd proposed to Ruth at a colleague's funeral.

'It's not funny Catherine,' he told her when she started to laugh, having called him the last of the romantics and had he really expected that Ruth would say yes. It was exactly the sort of thing that Ruth would have said and he was beginning to wonder if perhaps they were ganging up on him.

'What now?' she continued, determined not to let him off the hook, 'are you going to ask her again?'

'Ruth's extraordinary,' came at the end of a brief explanation as to why for the moment their personal life was on hold, they were stuck in a safe house rather than his home and how without her, he really didn't cope.'

Now there's a coincidence thought Catherine, that's exactly what Ruth had said about him.

* * *

At Gard de Nord, Jean Paul who had assured his superiors that he would bring them the transcripts as soon as he returned from his visit to MI5 was looking forward to his trip. An all - expenses paid break albeit work related surely meant that at least his evenings could be spent seeing the sites. There had to be someone at Thames House that was unattached as he was and would be happy to take him out and about. He'd never been to London and until that point hadn't given it much thought, but as he boarded the night train and contemplated meeting up with Ruth again, his excitement was mounting. Her boss had said yes to him coming so perhaps he had changed his mind, he'd soon find out anyway. The train was crowded mostly with French tourists going to London for a few days, none of whom would know that they were travelling with a spy. It was his most important assignment to date and he'd had to twist a few arms to get a seat, but they'd eventually managed to find him one, he just needed to find the right carriage.

He was so distracted by his thoughts as to what lay in store for him and with the possibility of seeing Ruth again, that he had absolutely no idea and a few metres behind him, one of Moran's ex goons who had been instrumental in killing his colleague was making a call to his associates in London.

'He'll be on the 10pm arrival at St. Pancras,' said the voice, 'he's dressed in jeans and a navy jacket with a red scarf and carrying a grey sports bag. If you stand on the gantry it should be very easy to spot him. We need to know exactly where he's staying and who with, so get someone to follow him and then give me a call.'


	11. Chapter 11

'Work always takes priority,' said Dimitri, as he and Beth stood by the barrier discussing their boss whilst they waited for the arrival of the train, and with it their unexpected guest. Beth wasn't about to argue with him, although she was fairly sure that this wasn't the case anymore. Since she'd arrived in the section and had been forced to live with Ruth, her own love life such as it was had stalled, so she'd made a study of the shift in the Ruth and Harry relationship and particularly how it had so obviously changed since the visit to Paris. She liked them both she really did and unlike some of their colleagues who loved to indulge in gossip, any observations that she had been making she was keeping well and truly to herself. It did seem odd though that Harry had invited Jean Paul, given that he had failed abysmally in his efforts to hide his dislike of the man over that weekend, but maybe something had happened in the meantime and now Harry didn't perceive him to be a threat. Harry loved Ruth and Ruth loved Harry, Tariq had told her that, but for whatever reason prior to the trip to Paris they'd been snapping each other's heads off at every opportunity. They certainly hadn't been living together and now they were, forced into it by the current situation perhaps, but there was more to it than that and the romantic and curious in Beth wanted to know what it was.

'There he is,' she said, pointing in the direction of their approaching guest above the din that the of the dozens of people that were milling around them were making, as Jean Paul who had added gloves to his previously described ensemble walked towards them with a big smile on his face before shaking their hands vigorously.

'Welcome to London,' said Dimitri, ushering him through the crowds and in the direction of his car that was parked in a pre - arranged spot on the station forecourt and being guarded by two very burly looking policeman.

'Take Beth with you,' Harry had instructed him, 'be watchful and call me when you arrive home.'

Dimitri's flat was south of the river, so for the next half hour Jean Paul was treated to the sites of London at night with a running commentary from Beth. Quite how Harry expected him to accommodate another person he had no idea, but in view of Jean Paul's behaviour towards Ruth he could fully understand why he wasn't welcome at the safe house, especially now that Catherine was staying there.

Jean Paul himself was more than slightly disappointed that Ruth hadn't been there to meet him. He'd been so relieved when she'd replied to his email saying that they'd agreed to bail him out and even more so when it was her boss who quite honestly had scared the living daylights out of him, who had been instrumental in his invitation. Never mind, tomorrow was another day and he was sure that when they went into the famous Thames House that he had heard so much about, that she would be there to greet him. Business before pleasure he kept telling himself as he read through for the umpteenth time the list of potential suspects that had been secreted in a special compartment at the bottom of his bag. It seemed ridiculous in this day and age that they had been forced to revert to using paperwork rather than technology to communicate, but with the loss of two colleagues, it was deemed to be the safest way.

* * *

Any further interrogation of Harry by Catherine was put on hold for the moment, because even before they'd finished their meal her eyelids had started to droop. Her Dad's insistence that if she didn't want to go into Thames House with them in the morning that he would organise a bodyguard for her seemed way over the top, but the fact that he and Ruth were in a safe house with armed guards did make her take him seriously.

'He's called John and he's someone that I know and trust love,' he told her, 'but you don't need to make your mind up until the morning,' was followed with a cuddle and kiss goodnight before she headed up to her room.

'As much as I'm pleased to see Catherine, it really couldn't have come at a worse time,' Harry mumbled as they settled down on the settee and relaxed after Catherine had gone to bed. 'We're in the middle of a dangerous op where all our lives are threatened and without a clue as to who the opposition are. Now I've got her to worry about as well.'

'Harry, Catherine's spent most of her adult life in some of the most dangerous countries on the planet she's not a child anymore and she certainly won't do anything to make your job more difficult, I'm certain of it,' Ruth tried to reassure him, despite knowing that it was probably a lost cause. If Harry loved someone it was all or nothing she knew that, and if needs be he would die for Catherine just as he would do for her and that did worry her. It suddenly crossed Ruth's mind that this was the first time that she had seen Harry in the role of a father and how much it suited him. It shook her to realise how maternal this made her feel as she tried to shake off the ridiculous notion that maybe she and Harry might have a child of their own one day, which was lunacy bearing in mind that she was already in her late thirties and Harry beyond fifty. Even so, she needed to check the use by date on the pills that she'd brought back from Cyrus with her, which until recently she hadn't been using.

'Let's just take it one day at a time,' she told him, talking more about her own present tumultuous thoughts rather than what she was trying to tell him, 'Jean Paul's arriving tonight so perhaps by this time tomorrow we might have some more answers.'

'Ah him, I'd almost put it out of my mind that he was coming,' earned him a kiss of re assurance and a smile that said remember what we talked about earlier, as she ran her hand slowly up the length of his thigh.

They were interrupted any further discussion by a noise in the background that told them that the night shift had arrived and were being told by Mike and Rob, that they had an extra charge under their roof and that it was Harry's daughter.

'You go on up,' Harry said kissing her gently, reawakening memories for both of them of recent nights. 'I'll go through and say goodnight to the lads, I won't be long I promise.'

* * *

Across London in Dimitri's small flat he and his newly acquired flatmates were still a long way from going to bed and were sharing a few beers. Talking about work was strictly off limits until the following morning's briefing Dimitri knew that, so he'd steered the conversation into the personal to try and find out more about Jean Paul and what his interests were when he wasn't fighting the good fight.

'I was born in Lyon where my parents still live,' he told them. 'My elder brother is married and he and his wife who have a baby daughter live in a flat on the opposite side of Paris from me. Me though, I've never really wanted to get tied down at least not for a while.'

Thank goodness for that thought Beth it was one nil to Harry who as they spoke would probably be tucked up in bed with Ruth and hopefully enjoying their evening, despite the arrival of his daughter who would be sleeping in the bed that she'd willingly vacated in an effort to give them some privacy.

'I was recruited as soon as I finished college,' he went on to tell them, 'there was an incident where a friend of mine was stabbed in a racially motivated incident and I waded in to help him. It was a really stupid thing to do, but I hate divisiveness of any kind and after recent events, I fear for the future of my country and for Europe in general, as I'm sure you do to.'

It was certainly a statement that both Dimitri and Beth could relate to.

* * *

So much for Harry trying to keep Jean Paul's arrival out of the limelight, because by 8am the grid which usually filled slowly for the best part of a hour was teeming with eager young analysts keen to take a peep at the new arrival. Catherine, bright as a button at 7am had announced that rather than spend a day on her own with this John character, that if Harry hadn't changed his mind then she'd rather come with them and find a quiet corner to begin work on her latest article.

'I've got plenty to be getting on with and I promise to keep out of your way,' she told him, when he reminded her that they were going to have a very busy day.

He had an early meeting with the Home Secretary which meant that he wasn't going to be there when Jean Paul arrived, which as much as he tried to pretend wasn't getting to him, was obvious to Ruth that it was.

'The PM is going to Paris again at the end of the week,' a less than patient Towers told him, 'you really need to convince me that she won't be in any danger Harry.'

She's always in danger Harry thought to himself, it was the nature of the job as it was for anyone who was under the scrutiny of the public, that's why she gets driven around in a bullet proof car with her own security detail.

'You look edgy Harry, everything alright is it?' didn't help Harry mood, as he looked at his watch and wondered if he'd blot his copybook further if he told the Home Secretary to get to the point because he wasn't in the mood for chit chat. Tower's desk unlike his own looked almost free of paperwork, but then unlike Harry he had a secretary called Maureen, whereas Harry had to muddle through on his own with Ruth nudging him from time to time, who by now he knew would be entertaining Jean Paul.

'Are you suggesting that she might want us to go with her again?' he asked Towers, wondering how on earth that was going to work now that he had Catherine staying with him. Maybe it had got to the stage where he had to trust Dimitri and Beth and let them spread their wings without him, they'd certainly settled in much faster than he'd imagined they would.

* * *

As far as Jean Paul was concerned, Harry needn't have worried. Beth had done a sterling job and had steered their guest away from Ruth, by taking him straight into the meeting room and asking one of the new juniors if she'd bring them some coffee. By the time that Harry arrived there were only two empty seats, his at the head of the table and Ruth's to one side of him. Their guest he noticed had been strategically seated at the opposite end with Dimitri and Beth on either side of him. Beth Bailey he concluded deserved a thank you.

'The list that we have compiled is a long one,' Jean Paul told them, as a sigh of resignation went round the table at the thought of yet another long day similar to the previous two. 'It is compiled mainly of French citizens that we have been watching for some time, but towards the end there are some what we deem to be migrant workers who as yet haven't registered, some of whom might be British. 'Like you,' he concluded, 'we have lost a colleague and a friend and more than anything else, want to find out who is behind this and why.'

As Harry thanked him for his input and assured him that they were equally motivated into finding out who was behind this, Ruth walked round the table and handed out the sheets that Jean Paul had brought with him. It was only as she leant over Dimitri's shoulder, that Harry noticed the semblance of a smile on Jean Paul's face and what he now knew to be his irrational jealousy returned to haunt him. It was less than two months since Ros had died and she had said no to his proposal. Despite all her assurances both spoken and in the way that she had to all intents and purposes had been instigating their newly found intimacy, there was a small voice whispering in his ear that he wasn't what she really wanted. She was young and beautiful and he was way past his best and here they were surrounded by men so much closer to her own age, just as George had been. God, even Dimitri called her Evershed which made her laugh. When had he ever been as relaxed as that with a woman, not for years if ever? Even Catherine had called him a dinosaur when he'd let it slip about his proposal, what had Ruth said, we couldn't be closer than we are now? He was so engrossed in his negative thoughts that he didn't realise that everyone was waiting for him to dismiss the meeting until he heard Ruth do it for him. He needed some air, he needed to escape from all of this even for a short while and leave them to it, but most of all he needed Ruth to guide him through this sea of insecurity that he found himself drowning in.

Back out on the grid, Dimitri like the others had started comparing the list that they had just been given with the one that Malcolm and Callum had compiled. Cross referencing on paper was bloody laborious and there was some merit in being the person that found a connection. But he had something else on his mind, and that meant that he needed to talk to Harry. Sitting at the desk next to Ruth's, Catherine had taken his eye in fact she intrigued him. If he assured Harry that he'd take great care of her, what were his chances of her going out with him and his two companions this evening, pretty slim he reckoned but he could ask? Maybe Harry would be pleased to have an evening on his own with Ruth, in fact he felt sure that he probably would, it was certainly worth the question. He'd have to wait though because Harry had just disappeared through the pods and Ruth had gone with him.


	12. Chapter 12

Dimitri's observation that Harry and Ruth had left the grid together wasn't strictly true. In fact Ruth had been distracted and it wasn't until five minutes later when she'd gone into his office to talk to him that she realised that his jacket was missing and he'd gone. Her first thought was that he was somewhere else in the building but then John their security guard confirmed that Harry had gone out and that in his words 'he wanted to be left alone and no he didn't need him to go with him.' Stupid man she thought to herself as she raced into the technical suite to tell Malcolm that she was sorry, but Harry had gone walkabout and that she needed to go out to find him.

'Ruth you know the rules, please don't go out there on your own, Harry will kill me if I don't try to stop you,' fell on deaf ears, as she swept back an errant strand of hair in frustration.

'I'm sorry about this but I've got to find him and sort this out once and for all,' she pleaded, her voice now rising in panic, 'please Malcolm will you just keep an eye on things until we get back, I won't be long.'

Beth had been watching as the events of the morning had unfolded and had seen Harry leave, as had Catherine who had presumed that when her Dad came back from his meeting that he would be on the grid all day. Ruth was now racing about as well as though there was some sort of emergency and when she appeared with her coat and was obviously going to leave as well, Catherine was anxious to know why. She'd go and talk to Malcolm, he always had all the answers. Beth had beaten her to it and when he told her that Harry had left without his security guard, she tried to persuade Malcolm to let her go after them.

'Beth you know we're short staffed and if I let you go out as well then Dimitri will have to go with you, so no I'm sorry but you have to stay here,' said a now beleaguered Malcolm, as Catherine arrived to over-hear Malcolm say that there had been some minor misunderstanding, and that Ruth had gone to find Harry to sort things out.

Beth needed a break. She'd been up half the night and had been staring at the lists for days and besides everyone deserved a few quiet moments away from the grid with a cup of coffee, so dragging a now willing Catherine with her, she headed into the kitchen and away from prying eyes.

'I haven't been here all that long,' she told her, 'but what I do know is that your Dad is one hell of a boss. I don't know the whole story when it comes to his relationship with Ruth far from it, but I suspect that the current problem is due to the arrival of that particular French man,' she told her, nodding back out towards the grid in the direction of Jean Paul. She then went on to explain what had happened when they'd been in France and how she suspected that for some inexplicable reason Harry saw him as a threat. 'It's ridiculous because Ruth wouldn't give him the time of day, I know that for a fact, but I guess when you work in a place like we do, then all sorts of insecurities about your own personal worth become part and parcel of your everyday life and it's bound to cloud your judgement at times.'

'That's not very likely in Dad's case is it?' Catherine responded.

'Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but it could explain why your Dad sees almost everyone that's got balls, as a threat to his relationship with Ruth.'

'But that's ridiculous Ruth loves him,' said Catherine, immediately realising that she'd let slip what she had overheard the previous evening and had put her foot well and truly in it by voicing it.

'You don't have to worry about me,' said Beth, seeing the look on Catherine's face, 'just let's make sure we keep that little titbit away from the boys.'

By the time that Ruth had reached the foyer John was already waiting for her. Harry had apparently disappeared in the direction of Whitehall and she was pretty sure that she knew exactly where he was going. She had sensed rather than seen his reaction when Jean Paul had leant over her shoulder and he'd reacted just as she'd expected him to. Leaving Thames House behind them, John was striding along far faster than she could run never mind walk and she really wanted to get to Harry before he did. Oh to hell with it she decided, she knew where Harry would be going, so she called John back.

'Just tell him that I've got as far as Whitehall and that I'm on my way to talk to him,' she said, without realising the implication of what she was saying, until standing still to get her breath back for a moment, she realised that just as Harry was she was on her own and totally vulnerable.

* * *

Face upon face, page after page, it was bloody relentless and so repetitive that some of the junior analysts that had been brought in for however long it took, were beginning to see double and faces that they were sure they had seen before. Malcolm, Callum, Beth and Dimitri who knew the reason that they were doing this were all tired but determined, as was Jean Paul who Malcolm had manoeuvred into the technical suite to work alongside him. Harry didn't like this young Frenchman and Malcolm was sure that it had nothing to do with his ability or otherwise to do his job. Maybe if he could persuade Callum to move out onto the grid for half an hour, he could use the opportunity to drop him a hint or two. He was after all nominally in charge for however long it was until Harry and Ruth got back.

'Callum, Ruth's had to pop out for a short while, so would you go out onto the grid and take over listening to the latest chatter, just in case there's anything that's significant,' he asked him, ' oh and by the way keep an eye on Catherine for me if you would, I don't want her going out as well,' he told him. Callum had spent enough time with Malcolm to know that he had to keep silent whatever his opinion, and besides which an hour or so away from their two man hidey hole and onto the grid would make a nice break.

Without going into specifics, Malcolm then turned his attention to Jean Paul, telling him that if he knew what was good for him, he would leave Ruth well alone.

'She's been in a relationship for years,' he told him, which wasn't really telling porkies he decided, albeit that they'd had more ups and downs than any other couple on the planet. 'They're very happy and settled,' he continued, 'so you're not only embarrassing Ruth with your advances but you might well be annoying some of her colleagues as well. To be honest, I find it hard to believe that you haven't already got a girlfriend.'

Dimitri or Callum, thought Jean Paul, they were the two most likely candidates. He'd seen Ruth leave and had noticed that Callum had headed straight for her desk, the moment that the pod doors had closed. Never mind there were plenty more fish in the sea and he still had another couple more days before he needed to head back to France and no, he didn't have a girlfriend. He'd been wondering about the blonde girl that Callum was talking to, the one that never went into meetings. He'd have to ask him who she was.

Malcolm then took the bull by the horns and rang Harry leaving him a message, telling him that Ruth was on her way to find him, wherever he was.

'I'm assuming that she knows where you've gone Harry and I only hope that she's got John with her, because you do realise that you're both breaking the most recent of your 'do as I say rules' Harry, because as far as I know you're both out there alone.'

If anything happened to Ruth Harry would never forgive himself Malcolm knew that and God help him for interfering, but someone had to keep an eye on those two.

* * *

Harry had walked straight past Whitehall, the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben and was currently striding across Westminster Bridge. He needed something to calm him and if it couldn't be Ruth, then the water and the flotilla of small pleasure boats and the larger barges that constantly passed under the bridges was the next best thing. It was where he had come during the years that she had been lost to him, imagining that they were heading to wherever she was. It was his oasis in a city where nothing else was ever calm and there was something about the constancy of the river that soothed him. It was where he had come on the night that Ros had been killed when he should have followed his heart and turned to Ruth for comfort, but he hadn't had the courage then and now here he was again, doubting his own ability to make her happy. Hearing his phone beep, he picked up his message from Malcolm. God almighty, it had never occurred to him that Ruth would be so stubborn that she would follow him and by the sound of things, quite possibly on her own. He was more than capable of looking after himself, he had eyes in the back of his head that had saved him on more than one occasion, but Ruth wasn't trained to cope with dangerous situations and the thought that she was behind him somewhere with heaven knows who following her meant that he had to turn back and try and find her. He knew exactly where she would be heading but if she got there before he did and couldn't find him what then? Would she ring him or would she go back to Thames House and where the hell was John, hadn't he told him in no uncertain terms that she was never to be allowed to go anywhere on her own? Plunging his hands in his coat pockets he dialled her number only to discover that either her phone was switched off or she hadn't got it with her.

'Yes straight away Harry,' Malcolm said when his phone rang again, 'I'll put a trace on it and call you back, have you spoken to John?'

Harry was right to be concerned and on more than one count. Ruth didn't have her phone and as far as their enemies were concerned, patience had paid off. From the moment that she'd left Thames House via the front door and stepped out of the shadows, he'd recognised her. She'd got a minder with her and that did present him with a problem but then miraculously for whatever reason he appeared to have abandoned her. He needed to keep his distance and find out where she was going everyone eventually turned off down a quieter thoroughfare or into one of the many parks that would give him the cover that he needed. He had all the time in the world whereas she certainly didn't. His only regret was that this time it would be quick and she wouldn't know anything about it.

Ruth changed course and took the busiest of routes that she knew that would take her back to the park. She needed to stay out of the open she'd learned that from watching and listening to the field agents. Calculating that by now Harry would have been there for at least ten minutes and if John had managed to catch up with him, then at least he would be waiting for her, she speeded up, her courage growing at the thought of what she was going to ask him. She would have rung him, but she realised that in her panic to get away that she'd left her phone in her desk, never mind there was nothing that she could do about that now. It was a beautiful sunny day considering how late in the year it was and what better place to propose to Harry than sitting on their bench overlooking the lake. Once this wretched Op was over then maybe just maybe they could make plans for a future together. She was absolutely certain that this was what he wanted just as much as she did.

Approaching in the opposite direction and as fast as his dodgy knee would allow him, Harry was within a few minutes of reaching the park. John had rung him to tell him that Ruth was on her way to find him and had passed on her message, which he thought meant that he was in for another good bollocking. He berated himself again for behaving like a jealous schoolboy, when as recently as one night ago Ruth had told him that she loved him. He wanted more than that though, he wanted everything and that included asking her again which meant getting the timing right this time. Catherine had called him the last of the romantics as though he was still living in the Stone Age, well maybe he was but it was part and parcel of who he was and Ruth loved him in spite of it. Only another hundred yards he told himself and then he'd be there.

* * *

He heard John's voice shouting and then he heard the shots. People were screaming and somewhere in the distance he could hear sirens approaching. In those few brief seconds because that was all that it amounted to, Harry's whole life passed before his eyes as he tried desperately to run, terrified beyond anything that he had ever felt as to what he would find.


	13. Chapter 13

With the safe haven of his mind where he kept his most precious picture of Ruth temporary lost to him, Harry ran the final few yards with his heart hammering in his chest and his breathing coming in ragged gasps. It was absolute chaos and in this normally peaceful park in the heart of Central London that on any other day he would have known like the back of his hand, nothing made sense. As he searched frantically to find her, he tried and failed to block out the shouting and the screams that seemed to be coming from every direction and the unnerving wail of the approaching sirens. Nothing mattered save finding her and knowing that she was safe as he picked his way between people that were being comforted by anxious loved ones or in most cases by strangers.

'No names as yet but two presumed dead, one seriously injured and several others less so,' said the faceless caller from Scotland Yard at the other end of the line to Thames House. 'We're sealing off the area Sir, but this isn't some random incident so you need to get your lot down there and pronto,' had Malcolm out of his seat and onto the grid.

'Go,' he shouted in a voice that surprised even him, as his temporary charges stood in front of him awaiting their instructions. 'Call me the minute that you have any news,' he called after them, before turning back to deal with the sea of horrified faces.

Having despatched Beth, Dimitri and Jean Paul, his next priority was to get the close to hysterical Catherine who Callum was trying to calm away from prying eyes, and Harry's office seemed the obvious place to take her.

'Make us some tea,' he instructed Callum, who was the only member of the core staff that he had left at his disposal and even he had been shipped in. How the hell had Harry done this year upon year, it was almost impossible?

Apart from his mother he had almost no experience with women and with anyone crying he was an absolute novice. He might have known Catherine since she had been a young girl but he had nothing to offer her now, other than to tell her that he was sure that Harry would be alright. Not that it mattered what Malcolm was saying, Catherine wasn't even listening to him. She'd lost the power of reason the moment that Malcolm had walked out onto the grid and announced that there had been a shooting. It was her Dad she was sure of it, he'd finally got himself killed and as always, for what was the question? Well this time she knew the answer and it was Ruth. Hadn't Dimitri said that there were two dead oh please god not Ruth as well, as with that thought she burst into tears again.

* * *

The park gates had been sealed off and the remaining members of the public that weren't injured but were potential witnesses to what had happened were being directed towards the two policemen who were taking names and addresses, before sending them on their way. They'd been given explicit instructions to report to their nearest police station within forty eight hours to give statements, even if they hadn't actually seen the incident.

'This usually quiet landscape where families picnic with their children at weekends, has been transformed into what amounts to a battlefield,' exaggerated one reporter into his phone, as more police and paramedics pushed their way through the crowd of sightseers that had inevitably arrived on the scene.

By the time that Beth, Dimitri and Jean Paul arrived there was some semblance of order. What were left of the walking wounded who had been caught up in the rush to get away from what had been happening, had been taken to one side away from the onlookers and were being tended to by paramedics. Three screens were being erected in the areas where two bodies yet to be identified were lying and one that sheltered the seriously injured security guard and the man that was kneeling beside the woman he loved and pleading with her to open her eyes.

'Security Forces get those sodding voyeurs away from here,' barked Beth to the nearest policeman as they pushed their way through the crowd in search of their colleagues and a scene not dissimilar to the one that Harry had arrived to, other than there were now far more police vehicles and ambulances everywhere.

'The Shooter's over there miss,' the policeman that was walking with them told her, 'and there's another elderly guy dead behind those screens,' he said, pointing to an area where two policemen stood guarding the second body.

Someone needed to take charge here and in the absence of Harry, Beth made her mind up quickly that it was going to be her, telling Dimitri to ensure that no one other than him got to go anywhere near the assailant. 'We need the gun and we need any ID and his phone if he's got one, after that just stay with him until they come to take him to the morgue,' she instructed him. 'Jean Paul, you get yourself over there and find out who the other dead man is and why and stay with him, I'm going to find Harry and Ruth.'

Beth had made up her mind that if Harry and Ruth were alright, that by now she would have seen or heard from him. It meant only one thing as she took what felt like a very long walk from where she had been talking to Dimitri to where she now knew she would find them. There was a third and much larger screen and parked next to it another ambulance it's blue lights still flashing. Two dead they had been told and one seriously injured, well she knew who was dead, but badly injured she still had no idea.

'Come on Bailey you can do this,' she told herself, completely unprepared for what she was going to find.

There were two paramedics surrounded by equipment who were battling to stem the flow of blood that was pumping from the chest wound that John had sustained in what Beth surmised must have been his attempt to defend Ruth. A short distance away from them, Harry, covered in blood was kneeling next to Ruth his concentration so intense that he had no idea that Beth had arrived. Another paramedic was attending to what Beth hoped despite the amount of blood was just a superficial wound to Ruth's shoulder and a nasty looking wound on the side of her face as she watched Harry pleading with Ruth to wake up with a look that was almost reverent. It answered every question to which she had so far failed to find an answer. Tariq had been right, but this was so much more than just love. Before she did anything else though, she needed to get Harry's attention and ask him what she should do next and to get him to speak to Malcolm and tell him that they were both still alive.

'Harry it's me Beth,' was her first of several efforts to get him to look up and listen to her, because to ask him how he was when it was obvious that he was worried out of his mind, sounded absolutely ridiculous.

'Go on sir, I'll look after her,' said the paramedic when Harry refused to move from where he was, go and get himself cleaned up and ring the grid as Beth had asked him. 'I promise you that we won't be moving her until she's stabilised and certainly not before you get back.'

Beth was out of her depth, she needed Harry to concentrate on more than Ruth and confirm that everything that she had so far been doing was in line with the correct procedure. She eventually succeeded in getting him as far as the nearest ambulance where she urged him to call Malcolm and then told him what she already knew and what she had done.

'Make sure that Dimitri travels to the morgue with the body, we don't want anyone else getting anywhere near the bastard that did this and when you get back to the grid let Malcolm know who the other person is, just in case he's not just an innocent victim,' he told her, 'now where's that phone?' Was all that Beth got out of Harry before he turned round and headed back to Ruth and John, calling over his shoulder, 'that if anyone wanted him, they'd find him at the hospital.'

* * *

Towards the end of the afternoon a solemn meeting room, sat and listened as Beth relayed as best she could, what she already knew.

'Harry's fine,' she confirmed, 'Ruth less so, although from what I saw of her injuries they aren't life threatening,' brought a general sigh of relief as she went on to tell them that she had no idea as to the extent of John's injuries other than it had been a flashing blue light ambulance going at one heck of a rate that had taken him away. 'Harry's at the hospital and there's not a chance he's going to leave there until he's sure that Ruth's OK, besides which we don't yet know if there's another lunatic out there with a gun.'

She got no further when the door opened and Harry strode in.

'Harry what on earth are you doing here?' asked Malcolm, 'aren't you supposed to be at the hospital with Ruth?'

'Not when against hospital advice, Ruth happens to be sitting in my office and talking with my daughter,' he told his relieved and somewhat amused audience, as everyone budged up and let him take his usual seat at the head of the table. As if that wasn't enough, the door burst open again to reveal Dimitri brandishing a phone as Malcolm muttered 'full house at last' under his breath.

'The gunman's British but with no ID,' said Dimitri, as Beth poured him a cup of coffee and then went in search of another chair. 'What's more interesting though,' he told them, 'is that this phone's registered in France although I don't think with the damaged that it sustained that we've got a hope in hell of finding out who he's been calling.'

'Don't you believe it,' said Callum holding out his hand, before asking Harry if he could go back to their technical suite.

'So why are you still here?' had Callum scurrying from the meeting room and told a relieved Malcolm in no uncertain terms, that Harry was back.

Having dismissed all but Malcolm, Harry sat down at the table with his head in his hands.

'I'm absolutely shattered Malcolm,' Harry confessed, 'it's been a long and dreadful day and I need to take Ruth and my daughter home. Tell the others thank you from me would you and that we'll reconvene in the morning.'

'Actually Harry, Dimitri's already suggested that perhaps Catherine might like an evening away from the safe house and spend it with him and Beth. He promises to bring her home himself afterwards, what do you think?'

'What about Jean Paul?' asked Harry, 'where does he fit in with this arrangement?'

'Harry. May I say something to you without you biting my head off?' asked Malcolm cautiously, sitting back down as did Harry. 'Far be it from me to tell you what to do,' he started hesitantly, as he watched Harry steeple his fingers across the bridge of his nose so that he could see his eyes and very little else. It was something that he had seen him do a hundred times and usually when he was listening to Ruth.

'Ruth did something unspeakably stupid today Harry, she could have got herself killed because of you. I'm assuming you know why?'

'I know.'

'Then what's the matter with you Harry? You've got everything that you've ever wanted. You have to put this right Harry, whatever it is that's making you behave like a couple of idiots.'

'Ring the hospital for me would you Malcolm and see if there's any news,' Harry asked him, failing to answer Malcolm's question but nodding, 'and call me later if there's any further news, or if Callum manages to do anything with that phone. We'll see you all in the morning.'

Going back out onto the grid, Harry made it quite clear to Dimitri that Catherine was to be back by eleven at the absolute latest and woe betide him if she was a minute later, before collecting his and Ruth's coats and going back into his office to collect her. Her face that she had smashed against the arm of the bench when John had shouted to her to get down was beginning to bruise quite severely, so much so that Harry asked if perhaps he ought to take her back to the hospital.

'I've had a scan Harry and you know what the doctor said. I haven't got a headache so please Harry just take me home,' was her predictable response.

* * *

Malcolm had already arranged that in the absence of John, Robert another security guard was standing next to Harry's car, waiting for them to be driven back to the safe house.

'Sir, my instructions are to walk with you until you are both inside the house,' Robert insisted, as Harry holding tight to Ruth's arm thanked him and wished him a good evening.

Harry wasn't used to being molly coddled. It diminished his notion that was already dented after the day's events that he would always be able to protect Ruth, but Malcolm's words were still ringing in his ears.

'Thank you Robert we'll be fine now,' said Ruth more graciously, just needing to get inside and sit down with a cup of tea. She needed a shower if only to wash away the memories of the day and to have a proper look at her face, which now that the feeling was coming back was very painful. More than anything else she really wanted some quiet time with Harry and contrived or not, she was grateful to Dimitri for whisking Catherine out of the way. They needed to have an out in the open discussion as to why they had both been so stupid and that if their relationship was going to work, that Harry really had to trust her.

It wasn't until she had left Harry downstairs with his head in the fridge announcing that he was going to sort out dinner, that stripped naked and about to have a shower, Ruth looked in the mirror and saw the extent of the injuries to her face. She looked as though she had gone ten rounds and lost, the whole right side of her face was black and blue, no wonder that everyone had made such a fuss of her. John though, this was nothing compared to what he had suffered and for what? Realisation as to what could have happened, relief at being safe or just remembering those that she had been fond of and who hadn't made it, wasn't something that she analysed before the tears flooded down her face. It was hurting even more, now that she was trying to wash her hair with an arm and shoulder that was also cut and bruised, but with the hot water cascading over her had started to bleed again. She felt so bloody useless and more than anything she needed Harry and for him to hold her and make things right. So it was a pyjama and dressing gown clad Ruth that walked back into the kitchen determined to tell him just that.


	14. Chapter 14

'Come on Dimitri, you can tell me,' said a much happier Catherine, who had consumed more wine than her Dad would have no doubt have told her was good for her, as she and the aforementioned Dimitri giggled their way through the washing up. She and Beth had very quickly realised that both Dimitri and Jean Paul were both vying for Catherine's attention so had become a double act, that had Harry known would have made him smile. Beth needed some light relief to blank out the horrors of the day and determined not to talk about work had skilfully led their two male companions into endless France v England and gender debates. Catherine was after all her father's daughter and very quickly cottoned on to what Beth was doing and became a very competent ally in the _let's get the boys wound up_ competition. A larger than was necessary takeaway and several bottles of wine later, by which time it was approaching ten thirty, Dimitri suddenly realised that if he didn't call a taxi now and take Catherine back to the safe house, that he'd be in trouble with a capital T. Catherine though was enjoying herself for the first time in weeks and was in no mood to be leaving.

'We daren't call your father now, he and Ruth will have been in bed for ages,' from Beth, caused the French half of Laurel and Hardy partnership to choke on his wine and contemplate the merits of channel swimming, as Catherine pulled out her phone and sent her Dad a text. 'Having a lovely evening, hope you are too, see you in the morning.'

* * *

A previously concerned and more than repentant Harry had already been in bed for a couple of hours prior to receiving his daughter's message, by which time Catherine could have told him that she was joining the service and he would have given her his blessing, such was the contrast in how he now felt after what had been the most extraordinary of evenings. His and Ruth's determination to sort this out once and for all had had them both realising for a second time in as many hours, what idiots they had been. A pyjama clad Ruth in pain and clearly distressed, had kick started what had been the most open and frank conversation they had indulged in during the entire five years that they had known and loved each other.

Harry had been putting the finishing touches to their dinner that consisted of an omelette and salad, when Ruth walked in through the kitchen door and flung herself into his arms, wincing as the pain in her shoulder and arm kicked in again. Kissing her clearly wasn't an option when half her face was swollen and discoloured, so for the next few minutes whilst their omelettes proceeded to go cold, he just closed his eyes and held her with his face buried in her hair until she calmed.

'I was so scared that I'd lose you Harry,' she finally told him, after he'd said that he was sorry and he knew that this was all his fault,' for the umpteenth time.

Cold omelette or not, neither of them had eaten since breakfast and they were both really hungry, as Harry discovered and microwaved a couple of shop bought crumbles and some custard which took Ruth a lot longer to eat than him, before telling her to go and sit down on the sofa whilst he made her a cup of tea. Unlike the washing up in Dimitri's flat, theirs stayed undone. Harry had an important conversation that he wanted to embark on, assuming that Ruth was prepared to listen.

'I've been an absolute idiot and I'm so sorry,' he told her, as he sat at one end of the sofa with a pillow across his lap where Ruth's head rested with her eyes closed. He'd turned on the fire, so even though they were in the safe house as to opposed to Harry's home where ideally they would have both preferred to have this conversation, it still felt intimate and cosy. Their two guards knew by now that once Harry and Ruth left the kitchen that the sitting room was out of bounds, so other than to say goodnight they had complete privacy.

Cotterdam, Mani, George and Nico were the sum total of the torture that they had been put through and all of it Harry blamed on himself. But it wasn't until that evening that he had voiced it to anyone other than Ros and now she was dead as well. Ruth knew nothing about Ros's involvement in Yalta and how Harry and Adam had forgiven her and moved on or how much he had come to rely on her since Adam had died. Now though as she listened to him, she finally understood why it had been at Ro's funeral that he had made the decision to propose to her and why it had affected him so deeply when she had turned him down. 'I don't want this for me and certainly I don't want this for you Ruth,' suddenly made sense and the fact that he hadn't told her that he loved her, paled into insignificance.

'Sorry, I need the loo,' he told her clearly upset when he finally stopped speaking.

'I'm sorry too,' Ruth told him, when five minutes later Harry appeared again with another cup of tea and settled back down next to her. 'Can we go to bed Harry, this sofa isn't very comfortable,' was said because she was building herself up to answering the ultimate question and in truth she wanted Harry to be similarly undressed and to kiss her, whether it hurt or not. He'd had a shower and changed at Thames House in what was nicknamed _The Toff's Bathroom_ , so it would be a case of who got into bed first, rather that her waiting or worse still falling asleep when she really needed them to continue this conversation.

A gentle and loving Harry who by this stage would have given her the world had she asked him for it, was more than happy to get an early night despite the fact that more than a cuddle obviously wasn't on offer, as he said goodnight to their minders and told them that Miss Evershed and he were going to bed. He felt liberated, free from the repression that had held him back and dogged him for years. Malcolm had been right he conceded, they so needed to be having this conversation.

For however long it took and bearing in mind that they had gone to bed before nine, lying side by side, Ruth on her back propped up with pillows for no other reason other than it was the most comfortable and Harry lying on his side facing her in a semi darkened bedroom, Ruth poured out her heart to him.

'Cyprus was a fantasy Harry that was never going to last, I should have realised that, but I never stopped loving you Harry, not for one second,' she told him. 'It's the guilt I suppose that I still feel about George and Nico that's been holding me back, that and the fear that if we ever did get to where we are now, that something else would happen and that I'd lose you all over again.'

'And now, what is it that you want now Ruth?' Harry asked her, still confused as to what she was trying to tell him and oblivious to the fact that she wanted him to propose again.

'Ask me again Harry.'

'What do you want now Ruth?' would have had her rolling her eyes if it hadn't hurt so much, despite the pain killers starting to kicking in. She wanted to shout at him, to tell him that she wanted him to ask her to marry her again and that she would say yes this time, but she couldn't torture him any longer as she looked at his beautiful and gentle face that was pleading with her in the semi darkness.

'Harry I want you to ask me to marry you,' was as far as she got, before his lips descended on hers and it became a case of pain what pain?

'You said yes Ruth,' he whispered, as they snuggled down together with a blissful calm enveloping them, brought on by the realisation that they had finally committed to what they both wanted.

'You're right, I'm going to marry Harry Pearce, I'll need to tell my boss in the morning,' she whispered back, running her fingers through his hair as he lay gazing at her with a look of pure longing in his eyes.

'If I wasn't marrying Harry then I'd probably marry him, he's quite sexy you know,' she continued the banter as their mutual desire rose, but given Ruth's injuries probably wasn't a sensible idea.

'For Christ's Harry I'm not at death's door and I'm on pain killers,' had Harry's resolve crumbling and Ruth's pyjamas becoming an unnecessary hindrance, as he made good his promise to love and obey, until exhausted they fell asleep.

* * *

Walking onto the grid the following morning determined to keep their news to themselves until the current Op was over, proved more difficult than they had imagined, as the younger members of their staff plus of course Catherine, waited for what they imagined to be at least a stern glare and in Dimitri's case, a 'right royal bollocking.' Not so as it turned out, as Harry wished everyone good morning and marched into his office without another word, which left Ruth feeling as though she was carrying a giant banner announcing their engagement, muttering something that sounded like 'so much for solidarity' as she headed for the kitchen to put the kettle on. The newly formed partnership of Beth and Catherine exchanged a glance before they followed Ruth, with the explanation to the others that Ruth with her injuries shouldn't be making the drinks and that they'd see them in the meeting room in ten minutes.

'Harry seems to be in a good mood this morning,' was Beth's attempt at interrogation, after both she and Catherine had asked Ruth if she was feeling any better.

'Yes,' said the usually eloquent Ruth by way of an answer, before they were interrupted by Dimitri sticking his head round the door and telling them to hurry up, as Harry was already in the meeting room. She was off the hook, at least for the moment.

'John although he's still in intensive care had come through his operation,' Malcolm told his relieved audience, 'so providing that there aren't any unforeseen setbacks he should make a full recovery,' had Harry determining to go and see him later.

'My visit to the mortuary, threw up some interesting anomalies,' chipped in Dimitri, going on to explain that both the assailant and the other person who had been gunned down were thought to be British, whereas the weapon as well as the phone appeared to be French.

Callum who had stayed on the grid long after the others had gone home had been waiting for his moment to shine. He wasn't part of Harry's band of brothers or whatever they liked to call themselves, but he was enjoying his time at five and hoped that if he proved himself to be useful that Harry might try and extend his stay.

'There is one discernible fingerprint which the boys in the lab are trying to match,' he told them, 'but as yet we haven't come up with a name. What I can tell you though is that according to the call log, this phone has travelled to and from France and the UK on more than one occasion and there's one particular number that has been called, more times than I've had hot dinners.'

'Which is?' asked Harry, who sitting next to his now fiancée had inadvertently yawned, which had resulted in what appeared to be a knowing look between Dimitri and Beth.

'Does anyone recognise the name Samuel Williams?' Callum asked them.

'Ruth, Beth, get on to that if you would please,' Harry asked them, before going on to tell Dimitri to go back to the mortuary and tell them to get a move on with the autopsies, they needed to know who both these men were,' before he dismissed the meeting but asked Callum to stay behind. 'Work with Jean Paul on this would you and use his resources, he may be able to help us with the missing link.'

Through the entire meeting Malcolm had sat patiently waiting and still hadn't budged from his seat. Harry had been his boss since he had arrived at Thames House more years ago than he cared to remember and with Colin now gone was the closest thing that he had to a friend. He had watched over the years as Harry and Ruth had skirted around each other always seemingly self-destructing and unable to take that final step. Something had changed though he had picked up on it when Harry had asked Ruth to follow up the lead. It was the way that he had said her name. He wasn't being nosey and he would never betray a confidence who on earth did he have to tell anyway? After a short pause, Harry smiled at him and saved him from having to ask the question.

'I can see that you want to ask me Malcolm, so yes we're absolutely fine. Once we get this wretched Op out of the way, I promise you that we'll invite you to dinner, now though we need to get on.'

Beth had never sat at Ruth's desk but sitting next to her searching through the hundreds of faces of people called Samuel Williams, she realised how perfectly placed it was in terms of looking into Harry's Office. Ruth wasn't her usually keeping it together self this morning, she was edgy and the astute Beth felt pretty sure that it had nothing to do with the fact that she had been beaten up by a park bench. Besides which they had all expected Harry to lay into Dimitri the moment that he had laid eyes on him and that hadn't happened.

'I hope Harry wasn't too angry that Catherine stayed over at Dimitri's, we just lost track of the time,' she told her. 'We actually had a great evening with a bit too much to drink if I'm honest and there were all sorts of confessions, you know what it's like, how about you?'

Ruth could see where this was leading and she could also feel her face starting to flush as yet another set of faces filled her screen. Not only that, she knew that Harry's eyes were locked on her, even though she wasn't looking at him. This was so not what they had discussed and he wasn't making it easy or the one that was being given the third degree.

Had she continued in the same frame of mind, she would have quite likely confessed to Beth what had happened, but an hour later by which time they had had a break before resuming their search on the screen, she clicked onto the next page.

'Harry,' she shouted in a way that no one else had ever been able to get away with, as he bounded out of his office and lent over her shoulder, astounded by a face that neither of them had seen for the best part of four years that filled the screen.

'Fetch Callum and Jean Paul,' he said turning to Beth, 'we need to find out where this bastard is.'


	15. Chapter 15

Despite the seriousness brought on by the discovery that it was William Samson that appeared to be masterminding the chaos that was now unravelling, Ruth was battling to concentrate. Harry's fingers, several of which had so recently ventured to places that had almost resulted in them being late onto the grid were drawing circles on top of the table and intentional or not, it was highly arousing. If she'd had the courage to raise her head and look at him, she'd have realised that Harry didn't appear to be concentrating either and that their colleagues who were now watching them, were patiently waiting for one or the other of them to speak. After another night of discovery both physically and in conversation, they'd enjoyed a leisurely, intimate and a very 'hands on' breakfast, as would have been expected after what had possibly been the longest dance in history, until Ruth had said yes. As the silence lengthened and Harry cleared his throat, Ruth pushed back her chair and stood up.

'William Samson,' she told them, gripping the side of the table in an effort to steady her now trembling legs and to bring herself back to the here and now, as his face appeared on the meeting room screen where the core staff plus an oblivious Jean Paul had reassembled. 'The once leader of 'The British Way', a right wing political party that four years ago we managed to discredit. Their soul aim was to destroy democracy as we know it by any means possible, which included murdering one of our assets and a very young child. He was loathsome as was his colleague Keith Moran who Harry, Dimitri and I, went to see the other day.'

'With Brexit being at the forefront of every political decision that is being made at the moment,' Harry interrupted or in this case saved her, 'we have to assume that Samson sees this as a weapon to resurrect his party, but through the back door. Ease of entry into the UK and the control of immigration are top priorities with all the main players,' he continued, 'but if Samson continues to create even a small amount of the chaos that he managed the first time, then Brexit will become a melting pot that will turn Europe on its head for all the wrong reasons. Our soul objective must be to find him and put a stop to this.'

'We presume that this is why he's been endeavouring to get his hands on the transcripts of that meeting and why Tariq and Jean Paul's colleague were targeted,' said Ruth, retaking baton. 'As he's so far failed, I presume it means that we're all still in danger?' Ruth asked Harry, by way of something to say, when nobody commented on what either of them had said.

'You and Jean Paul certainly are,' Harry concluded, 'as are the rest of us by association,' was his loaded response, much more so than it would have been twenty four hours previous and was said in a voice and with a look that Malcolm immediately picked up on.

Harry then went on to instruct Callum and Jean Paul to work together and chase all the possible leads available to them, which included those that were coming from the other side of the channel. Malcolm's suggestion that perhaps Jean Paul might be more effective if he went back to France was quickly put to bed, as Harry announced that he had spoken to his opposite number in Paris and that Jean Paul's stay had been extended indefinitely. Taking into account that less than twenty four hours ago Harry had been close to ringing immigration and having him deported, his statement added fuel to the already rumour filled meeting room that something monumental must have happened, as Callum and Dimitri joined their colleagues on board the 'what's happened to Harry train?'

'Off you go then,' said Harry using those hands again, as with a chorus of 'yes Harry,' they departed.

* * *

William Towers always looked forward to his meetings with Harry. They offered him a break from the mountain of insignificant paperwork that invaded his office and besides which it put him in touch with life at Thames House and real spies and he liked that idea. Harry told it how it was, unlike his colleagues in the cabinet, most of whom he wouldn't have passed the time of day with had it not been part of his remit to pretend that he liked and agreed with everything that they said. He had of course been the first to hear about the previous day's incident and the lucky escape by the delightful Miss Evershed, who since the demise of Ros Myers sometimes accompanied Harry to their meetings. He'd seen how deeply Harry had been affected by Ros's death, but he had also seen the difference in his behaviour towards Ruth and that fascinated him. Somewhere under that usually bombastic façade, he felt sure that there was another Harry, and he suspected that Ruth Evershed held the key. What he didn't yet know and what he was curious to find out about, was why Harry who so rarely left his office had apparently been the first on the scene and had then spent his afternoon at the hospital.

'Good morning Home Secretary,' said a smiling Harry, as he walked into Tower's office for their later than scheduled meeting and accepted his offer of a cup of coffee. In Harry's world it was the best morning of his life so far and everyone that he'd spoken to had been greeted in the same way and with a smile to boot.

'Dreadful business, what's the latest news Harry, I hope you've got something more positive to tell me this morning?' didn't get Towers what he was hoping for, other than an update on Harry's security guards condition, plus their latest assumption that the reappearance of William Samson in France had led them to believe him to be the instigator of the current situation.

'My section, are currently working hand in glove with the French and we will find him Home Secretary and put this to bed I can assure you of that,' had Harry making to stand up and to end the shortest conversation he had ever had with this particular Home Sectretary.

Towers though had little else to do with his morning and wasn't about to give up so easily. He knew full well that Harry had moved himself and his recently returned analyst into a safe house together, whereas the remainder of his staff were still living at home though not necessarily their own. He wished that he'd chosen a different career path and joined the security services, it certainly sounded a lot more interesting than the lonely evenings that he was forced to endure.

'Miss Evershed, how is she Harry? I trust that she's feeling a little better this morning after her ordeal?'

That's it I'm out of here Harry thought, assuring Towers that Ruth was indeed a little better and that he'd tell her that he had asked after her.

'By the way Home Secretary, I want you to know that I intend moving the remainder of my staff into a safe house as a precaution until this business is over,' he concluded, which left Towers with his mouth open and wondering if in addition to his other talents, Harry was also a mind reader,' before he stood up and with a brief nod strode from his office.

What Towers couldn't see was the broad smile that spread across Harry's face at another battle won.

Against the advice of his minder he wanted to take a detour on the way back to Thames House, to enable him to clear his head and to try and wake himself up after a virtually sleepless night and before he got embroiled in work again. He contemplated ringing Ruth to hear her voice and to tell her that he loved her and was on his way, but he'd seen the others specifically Beth winding her up and he didn't want to make things any worse for her. He'd see her soon enough, he knew about her appointment. More than anything he wanted to be able to leave the safe house and to take her home so that they could make plans for their future and talk about the wedding, but for the moment as had always been the case, work had to come first.

* * *

As Harry was pondering his future and how being married to Ruth would make him the happiest man alive, under Malcolm's instructions and as Harry had requested, Dimitri and Beth had left to make the brief trip to Dimitri's flat to collect what they imagined that they might need for at least another week and then take it to the safe house. Callum and Jean Paul were ensconced in the meeting room pouring over reams of footage and intel that was coming in from France which left Catherine and Ruth out on the grid on their own.

'Was Dad angry when he got my message yesterday evening?' Catherine asked her, interrupting Ruth's train of thought as she flexed her shoulder and arm in an effort to get more comfortable. In truth she was only just managing to stay awake and pondered the fact that she should have listened to Harry and spent at least the morning in bed.

'No Catherine he was fine, he trusts Dimitri completely despite what he sometimes says. He just wants to protect you, you're very important to him you do know that don't you?'

'I do now, but it works both ways, he's my Dad and I love him,' said an incisive Catherine. 'He's not always the tough guy that he pretends to be Ruth, you will look after him for me once I go back to Israel won't you?' she asked her.

This wasn't a fishing expedition Ruth realised, this was a daughter who had finally realised what a dangerous and potentially life threatening job it was that her father did and was genuinely scared that she was going to lose him.

'As much as he'll let me, I promise you,' was Ruth's honest answer and the one that Catherine so badly needed to hear.

She could have told her a lot more, but she had only known Catherine for a short while and it wasn't her job to tell her what had transpired over the past few days, or indeed the history that had preceded last night's proposal and her acceptance. If Harry was in agreement, then maybe at some time in the future when Catherine was with them, Ruth wanted her to hear their story albeit that it would have to be an edited version. If she and Harry truly wanted their relationship to work then when they finally had the chance to be open about it, that had to included telling Catherine and Graham if he was prepared to listen. For now though she had an appointment with the services doctor to check her over.

'Your dad should be here soon,' she told her, looking at her watch, 'will you remind him where I've gone Catherine?'

In fact completely against protocol and doing something that Harry had never done before other than by proxy, Ruth found him breathless and waiting for her outside the doctor's door. He'd been part way through his musings as he'd made his way back to the grid via the park, when he'd made up his mind that he wanted to be there with Ruth when she went for her appointment. He wasn't up to running anymore, well no more than a trot and he didn't want to make a fool of himself surrounded by his minders, but his detour had left him with less time than he'd imagined so he'd speeded up as best he could. As it happened, apart from feeling exhausted Ruth felt fine and didn't need the company, but the fact that it was Harry and that he'd made the effort felt special, and she loved him all the more for it.

'Nothing that a day at home and in bed wouldn't have put right,' said Doctor Holden with a wry smile, as he checked Ruth's cheek and still swollen arm that had begun to turn yellow. 'Your blood pressure's just a tad high, so make sure that your boss doesn't have you overdoing it for the next few days,' brought a blush to Ruth's face, as Harry sat listening the other side of the curtain having explained to the not at all gullible doctor, that as Ruth had been knocked unconscious he was there to explain to him what had happened.

Exiting the doctor's room, they were in one of the few blind spots in the corridors of Thames House and Harry's resolve to keep home and work separate was diminishing. 'A day at home and in bed' from the doctor, had caused not only his imagination to sky rocket but the part of his body that was currently trying to escape his trousers. He was in danger of combusting if he didn't kiss her. Taking Ruth by the hand was accepted without protest, so despite the fact that at any moment someone might come to find them, Harry pulled her towards him and did just that without holding back.

Walking quietly along one of the few carpeted corridors of Thames House in an effort to find Harry and to tell him that Callum was on the lookout for him, Malcolm was approaching unheard and unseen.

'I know where he'll be, I'll go and find him,' he'd told Callum, when Harry hadn't answered his phone and Catherine had explained that Ruth had gone for her appointment.

Standing no more than five yards in front of him completely unaware that Malcolm had now stopped dead in his tracks, Harry was kissing Ruth. This wasn't a casual kiss of two people who were in it for the short term, Malcolm had seen enough movies to realise that, besides which he knew this couple almost as well as they knew themselves. It was a kiss filled with emotion and need was the only way that he could describe it, as they broke apart from each other with the broadest smile that Malcolm had ever seen on either of their faces. With the next movement the deal was sealed for Malcolm and captivated his heart, as Harry took Ruth's face in his hands and planted the gentlest of kisses on her forehead. Harry had told him the truth, they were fine.

'You heard what the doctor said, take it easy, now promise me,' a passing Malcolm heard Harry whisper as he exited the pods and back onto the grid.

Harry's decision to ask Jean Paul to stay were justified as with Dimitri and Beth now back from their travels, they had all resumed their seats in the meeting room and sat back to listen.

'William Samson,' he told them, 'had been flagged up as a person of interest when he first arrived in France some four years ago. He had bought a small run down property of the border with Germany which in itself was unusual as most incommers tended to head south for the sun. He had spent the first year making it habitable after which he had made several trips back and forth over the border, but never back to the UK which had been deemed unusual as he had family there. Being fair haired in a small village on the German border he had been conspicuous to everyone and the fact that he hadn't made any attempt to mix, had drawn curiosity from the hierarchy as to what his motives might be for moving there. After a while though as was always the case, more important issues had caused his monitoring to be kept to a once a year occurrence and eventually had ceased altogether. If he was the instigator of what was happening now, then he was an opportunist rather than a long time planner.'

'Our priority is to find out who his associates are both here and in France, so we need to keep him watched,' Harry told them, thanking Jean Paul for his input and asking him to speak to his boss and to get him to set up the surveillance and to keep a track on his phone. 'We also need to find out who that bloody body belongs to, he can't have been working on his own and I don't want any more incidents like yesterdays or our lives won't be worth living,' he told them,' sending Dimitri and Beth back to the morgue with strict instructions to stay there until they got some answers, even if it meant them staying overnight. 'But be careful,' he called after their departing backs in a far gentler voice.


	16. Chapter 16

What remained of the day had flown by and it wasn't until Ruth stood in front of his desk announcing that she was feeling the effects of the previous day and needed to go home, that he looked at his watch and realised how late it was. His previous 'we stay here until we get results policy', was swept away on a tied of pure love when he raised his head and took one look at her weary face, grabbing his phone to ring Malcolm telling him that he was taking Ruth home and would he contact Dimitri and Beth at the morgue and tell them to call it a day.

'I suspect that we're a bit too much for her to cope with,' an exhausted Ruth told Harry, when she was curled into him in the back of the car as they made slow progress through the rush hour traffic in central London. Catherine had asked him if she could stay a second night with Beth and Dimitri rather than go home with them, which had raised an eyebrow and seen him heading over to where Jean Paul was sitting and telling him that if anything happened to Catherine between there and the safe house, then the consequences would be far worse than those that awaited William Samson.

Clothes off, jimjams back on and once Harry had drawn the curtains and tucked her up in bed telling her that he'd call her in a couple of hours, Ruth was dead to the world. She'd persevered all day without the painkillers, but it had been a futile experiment and her arm and her shoulder were hurting like hell. Severe muscle damage was as equally painful as a break, sometimes more so they had told her and at the moment she was of a mind to agree with them.

Alone and in a peaceful frame of mind for the first time since they had left for work that morning, Harry stripped naked and padded into the bathroom. As the over hot water with which he was indulging himself cascaded across his weary head and body, he found himself starting to relax as he forced himself to block out the work aspect of their day and concentrate on Ruth and all that she meant to him. Had it not been for the quick actions of John she might have been lost to him and yet here she was just a few metres from him, sleeping in a bed that they were sharing. Christ he loved her, it was all consuming when she was near him and as for what it did to his body, well that was another question all together. Regrets about the past and how much time they had wasted inevitably entered his head as he pondered his advancing years and wondered how many they would be afforded together and where they would spend them. For a reason he couldn't fathom, memories of his parents and the relationship that they'd had with Jane entered his head. He could still recall his father's words the night before the wedding when he'd asked him if he was sure about this and how there was still time to change his mind. It hadn't been a criticism of Jane, Harry knew that, but his fathers' wise old head had known only too well that his headstrong eldest son was too young to be putting down roots. How right he'd been and how happy he would have been now, to have met Ruth.

That particular train of thought brought him back to the here and now and to the fact that he needed to have a long talk with Catherine. There was the question of the wedding to arrange and as he rather liked the idea that she would be there, it meant somehow or other they needed to get married in the next few weeks before she flew back to Israel. Would Ruth mind getting married that quickly, women were notorious for needing time to plan or so he'd been led to believe and he had no idea and how he'd find time to arrange it with a current workload that was in danger of combusting? A semblance of an idea was forming in his mind but that would require a lot of arranging and subterfuge, but then if he could get Catherine and maybe Beth on board, surely it would be possible. Before all that though he needed to dry himself off and get some clothes on before he froze to death and go and see if the fridge had been stocked up again as he'd requested. First things first though, he fancied a cup of tea.

* * *

By the time that Dimitri and Beth had driven from the morgue to the safe house, with a promise to the pathologist that they had all the information that they needed and wouldn't be bothering him tomorrow, Jean Paul who had so far behaved like a perfect gentleman, had surprised Catherine by announcing that to say thank you for their hospitality, he wanted to cook dinner. Unlike them, who moved in a world where night blended into day with erratic hours that required you to eat and sleep when you could, he surprised them by saying that in his Paris office there was what amounted to a restaurant, and takeaway meals at home were rare.

'Well lucky old you,' muttered a knackered Beth, until he strolled back out of the kitchen from which there was a wondrous smell exiting, to lay the table and announce that they had less than half an hour before dinner was served. The highlight of the evening came when Dimitri was opening a second bottle of wine and Jean Paul, now with a captive audience who was hanging on his every word, took on a whole new persona as he waxed lyrical about the beauty and diversity of the country that he called home.

Catherine was equally enamoured and wondered what her Dad would say if she took up what was now an offer, to visit Paris at a time of her choice and he would be more than happy to show her the sites. No one had mentioned her Dad or Ruth so far that evening and she was grateful about that. She'd watched him throughout the course of the day and had been worried about how tired he looked. It was obvious that he and Ruth had finally sorted out their differences whatever had caused them and her decision to spend the evening here rather than with them, had been to give them space. She certainly wasn't privy to what was going on with his section; in fact until now she'd never imagined that they ever worked with the French. Dimitri and Beth were just so young to be doing what they did, they were also very loyal to her Dad she could see that which was a good thing. She just wished he'd take a step back and let them do all the racing about, rather than putting himself in a position where he could get himself killed. Hopefully once this Op or whatever they called it was over and he and Ruth moved back into his house, they could find the time to talk about it. Certainly before she headed back to Israel in three weeks' time.

* * *

It was to be an evening of reflection and pampering for everyone so it seemed, as two hours later Ruth was woken with a gentle kiss to be told that if she was hungry then dinner was nearly ready. The medication that Harry had insisted that she take had had the desired effect and she felt a lot more comfortable as she sighed and pulled him towards her, kissing him with measured gentleness. Harry Pearce, defender of their tiny part of the free world she thought to herself, leaving work early without hesitation just because he loved her. It was wonderfully re assuring and everything that she had ever wanted of him. Wanting to enjoy the comfort of their bed a moment longer she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes and just like Harry had earlier, she glimpsed back in time. The grid at night long before Cotterdam had torn them apart had always been their special place, beautiful but excruciatingly painful as they'd eeked out their time together with the pretence of having work to do, before she'd caught the bus home and he had called his driver. The night when he had returned after his suspension when she'd been alone on the grid and they'd both so wanted to reach out for the other, but had stayed firm. It had been ridiculous. Well that was then and with her single response of yes, everything had changed and Harry was down in the kitchen cooking her dinner. 'Come on Evershed,' she told herself, 'stop reminiscing, life has never been better.'

Back down in the kitchen Harry had long since stopped worrying about what Catherine was doing, since Dimitri as requested had sent him a message to say that they were all safely locked in for the night and that he'd keep an eye on his daughter. He was finally succeeding in spending an evening without giving work a single thought and instead was concentrating his attention on Ruth and trying to access what she wanted by way of a wedding.

'Just us and something simple,' wasn't very helpful and didn't quite fit into his plans, or at least the 'just us' part of it didn't. He certainly wasn't prepared to drag some random passers - by off the street, not that there was a street where he was planning it being. Simple it could be and certainly away from prying eyes, in fact if he could pull it off which he was sure that he could, it could be just them plus two others. The only problem was which two? Four others would make it feel like more of a celebration, certainly for the meal that he had planned afterwards. It required more digging, or did it?

'Come on Harry,' he could hear his father's voice telling him. 'It's Ruth for goodness sake, she'll love the fact that you've put so much thought into it, be positive for a change.'

* * *

Away from the talk of a wedding and trips to Paris that were currently distracting those members of section D who had spent most of the previous day in the field, witnessing the death and serious injury to members of the public, a member of the security forces and a terrorist, Callum sat at home in Anna's flat with his computer footage still running. Having seen Anna depart for an evening class with some of her friends, he'd ordered a takeaway which he'd finished and had resumed his searching. Beer in one hand and determined to succeed and prove himself to Harry, he ploughed on. Somewhere in those transcripts or the reams of footage that they had now received, was a clue as to the whereabouts of William Samson and he was hell bent on finding it. Tariq he hadn't known but he had died because of it and he deserved justice to be metred out. Like Ruth, Callum was a lateral thinker, so putting aside the transcripts for one moment he turned his attention to the minor players that had been at the meeting. He eliminated those that had been ordered to attend from all three countries, concentrating on the security personnel that were there purely as protection, specifically from the French and German point of view.

He skirted over the footage of Harry going walkabout and of Ruth following him. Malcolm had made it quite clear that it had nothing to do with the Op and that in his words, it didn't exist and that they would eventually eliminate it. He went beyond that to the perimeter fence and to the accommodation where the drivers and ancillary staff had been staying. The first time that they'd looked at this they hadn't had a face or name but now they had, as walking across the forecourt where all the vehicles were parked and disguised as a driver, he saw William Samson.

It was close to midnight and far too late to ring his counterparts on the continent or in fact Malcolm, but first thing in the morning as soon as he and his colleagues arrived on the grid, it would be all bells and whistles. 'Got you, you bastard,' he said punching the air. Now they had the means to find out what he had been calling himself, and more importantly where he was.

* * *

It was a bitterly cold night in the pokey little flat that he had rented on a weekly basis, as he tried and had so far failed, to decide what to do next. So much for Moran's goons getting the job done, he should have known better. Twice they'd failed to eliminate this wretched woman. He should have bloody well done the job himself, he had the means. There was only so much time before they identified the shooter and then the link to him and he really didn't have anything to lose any more, other than to spend his life in a cell next to Moran and that was the last thing in the world that he wanted. His objective was lost yet again and causing havoc by dismantling the talks was only a dream. They would find him eventually and probably sooner rather than later, given that the three countries were now quite probably working together. If he changed his identity again, surely he could get back into the UK one last time and go out in a blaze of glory, but by what route and by what means were the questions? So far he'd avoided talking to Moran but maybe it was worth the risk. At least with his stooge at the prison helping him, he might be able to come up with some suggestions as to his best way in. He'd certainly have his ear to the ground with regard to section D and probably where Harry Pearce and Ruth Evershed were currently staying. It was who you knew that got results in this world and at this particular moment, he just about had the upper hand. He'd made up his mind, it was death or glory and tomorrow morning at ten he'd make that call, it was far too late to do it tonight.


	17. Chapter 17

Callum's dogged determination paid off and the text that he'd circulated long after most of his colleagues had gone to bed had resulted in a grid teeming with people, not only the core staff that had understandably arrived early, but those that he had rounded up from section E. It was something that didn't go unnoticed by Harry and he made a mental note to have a word with Callum later concerning his future.

'This is William Samson,' Harry told his attentive audience as Beth handed out the photographs. 'He is extremely dangerous, quite probably desperate and as far as we are aware is still at large. He has a long history of orchestrating violence and most recently is responsible for the killing of two agents, one of our own and the other who was a colleague of Jean Paul. He is also responsible for yesterday's attempt on the life of my senior analyst,' had Ruth cringing with embarrassment, 'which makes it imperative that we find his whereabouts without delay and those that are working with him. Because of Callum's sterling efforts, we have every reason to believe that he's been living close to the German border although is currently making his way back into the UK to cause further mayhem. This cannot be allowed to happen, so find me this man,' he demanded of them.

Leaving their new recruits to it, with the instructions that Callum was currently in charge and that they should report to him direct, he called the remainder of his core staff into the meeting room and continued in the same vein.

'Since we now know that for at least three years he's been living on the continent, I want you to trace his and his contacts movements since he left the UK. I'm aware that it will involve a lot of research but with Jean Paul here to help us, we've got the added resource to work with our colleagues across Europe. Samson will be fully aware that he's got nowhere to hide, but I've seen enough of desperate men in my time, and with nothing to lose he'll probably be planning one final hurrah. Ruth's been targeted twice now and I will not,' was said with emotion that left nothing to their imagination, 'let him get the chance to try again, do you hear me?' brought him a chorus of 'yes Harry', and the already embarrassed Ruth, wanting to tell him not to labour the point, that they'd got it.

'Dimitri, you're with me, Ruth you stay here with Beth and neither of you are to leave the grid,' he practically ordered them before grabbing his coat. 'We're going to have another conversation with our friend Moran.'

Harry's progress out of the meeting room was halted by Ruth who didn't particularly like being told what to do, but conceded that in this incidence her fired up fiancée was right and besides which, at work he was technically still her boss. She also felt as though she'd been put through the proverbial wringer both physically and emotionally and needed to be afforded a private moment with him before he left. Giving him one of her 'we're not done yet looks', she watched as Harry's face softened and his shoulder's relaxed. Her Harry was back.

'Five minutes,' he told the waiting Dimitri, dismissing him with a wave of his hand before pulling out a chair for Ruth to sit down.

She knew only too well, that when Harry was worked up he could act totally irrationally, especially when it concerned her and matters of the heart. Glassing Mace had been a case in point and if he was going to see Moran to extract information, she was fearful what he might do. For a second she was tempted to make a joke about him having a wine glass in his pocket, but thought better of it. She could read him like a book, but in this instance Harry beat her to it.

'I know, keep calm,' he said, much as he had done to Adam on the day that Ros had called Mace and Ruth had been taken from him. 'But I will not let that bastard hurt you Ruth, no matter what else happens.'

'Just promise me that you won't do anything stupid that's all I ask, and if you feel like beating him up please don't, let Dimitri do it,' was said with a kiss on his cheek and a squeeze of his hand, hoping that he'd realise that although she was joking, she still needed to let him know that she was concerned.

'Scouts honour I won't lay a finger on him, but one way or another we have to get that information and he's our quickest route to Samson,' was said pulling her close before kissing her goodbye. 'I'll be back before you know it and don't worry,' was followed by him asking her to keep an eye on Catherine.

* * *

Callum didn't disappoint and proved to be a good motivator. Rather and leave his charges to their own devises he set about patrolling the grid, moving from analyst to analyst chivvying and advising them on the leads that they should be following in an effort to trace Samson's current movements.

Sitting at Beth's desk, she and Jean Paul were in deep conversation with one of their counterparts in Berlin as they mapped out the quickest route from Samson's last sighting to where Jean Paul's colleague had been found dead. It was testament to how well the security services could pull together when needed and another huge nail in the coffin of William Samson.

Ruth meanwhile had sought out the sanctuary of Harry's office and was working her way through her book of contacts that she had retained from the years that she'd been at GCHQ. She'd just put the phone down for the umpteenth time, when she was interrupted by the door sliding open and the arrival of Catherine carrying two cups of tea. Deciding that she deserved a break and that it felt like ages since she and Catherine had found time for a decent conversation, she told her not to rush away but sit down and tell her about the latest article that she was working on.

There was the slightest hesitation before Catherine answered her, which for everyone's sake but primarily Harry's, was fortunately completely misconstrued by Ruth.

'Promise me that you won't tell anyone, not even Dad,' she asked her, 'it's a secret for now.'

'I promise,' said a now worried Ruth, wondering if perhaps Catherine was heading into some god forsaken war zone again and that she didn't want her father to know.

'I've taken some time off from journalism and I'm working on a book, in fact it's reached the final chapter,' had Ruth more intrigued than surprised and asking her what it was about.

'It's a love story,' said a straight faced Catherine, as she re visited the possibility of strangling her now absent father for the task that he'd set her.

'Are you absolutely sure about this?' she'd asked him when he'd rung her the previous night after Ruth had gone to sleep and asked her if she'd do him a favour and arrange their wedding. She'd heard enough from Beth to know that her Dad usually blew it spectacularly when he tried to organise anything romantic and with something as important as a wedding, there was the potential for it being the worst the cock up in living memory. Please don't be angry with him Ruth, he's so excited about this, she thought to herself, as she glanced towards the file containing the single sheet of paper that was sitting on her desk.

Item 1 was the church which was to be the venue, followed by a contact name and phone number.

Item 2 was the date and the time, which just so happened to be in less than two weeks - ditto

Item 3, was a guest list of four people, or to be precise Malcolm, Beth, Dimitri and herself, all of whom she was supposed to invite but explain that at this stage Ruth didn't know it was happening.

Item 4, was the location for the reception which was at The Manor House Hotel which was apparently within walking distance and according to his list he'd provisionally booked, but she had to call them and confirm.

Then finally Item 5, which he had been gracious enough to suggest might be the most difficult, was to persuade Ruth to wear a particular dress that she'd worn the one and only time that she'd danced with him plus the suggestion that if she needed it, she should use Beth's cunning to get Ruth there on the day.

'I can see that you're busy, I really shouldn't have interrupted you,' she told Ruth, standing up and moving towards the door, as she glanced up and saw Beth heading towards the kitchen for their pre – arranged meeting. She was a part time spook who was working for her Dad, it wasn't so bad.

* * *

Without an exact plan but rather by existing on his wits which was pretty much what he had done since he had fled the UK, William Samson alias Monsieur Robert Laurens, was taking the most circuitous route available to him. Using one of his many passports, he was posing as a French scientist who was heading to London for the multi- national conference on climate change. He certainly looked the part, with his neatly trimmed beard and ridiculously expensive casual clothes. His suitcase if it were searched would reveal a Saville Row suit and a selection of shirts and ties that he had kept from his days as a member of parliament. Clothing in which in Harry would have looked so much better. His other bag contained his laptop and a selection of files relating to his personal research that with a cursory look, which had happened when he'd crossed over the border into Denmark, would reveal nothing of its less savoury contents that was hidden at the bottom. He was to all intents and purposes the man that he claimed to be.

After what had been a drive through the night with virtually no breaks to rest, he had finally reached his destination. In an effort to destress he was stretching his legs whilst he enjoyed a coffee outside a dockside café, before he boarded the ferry bound for Harwich and then his onward journey into London. As the clocks in the UK approached ten, he pulled his phone and tapped in the most important of the many numbers that he'd programmed in.

In Harry's world timing was everything and sooner rather than later, by coincidence or in this case good fortune, he had finally got it right. As an unprepared Moran ready to receive his call was making his way down the corridor to a corner that he knew was free from surveillance, two strong pairs of arms grabbed him from behind and dragged him into the interview room. As he was slammed into a chair and told to turn out his pockets and 'shut the f***k up, he listened on helplessly, as a garrulous William Samson had the conversation that he should have been having with him, with Dimitri. They had him and moreover they had his phone number and his list of contacts.

'I'll leave this one in your capable hands,' Harry told a smiling Dimitri, 'I'm off to organise a welcome home party for his friend.'

* * *

By the time that Harry walked back on the grid there was an atmosphere akin to a party as intel was coming in to say that agents across Europe were breaking down doors and rounding up Samson's men. Samson though was the real prize and when the ferry docked after what they now knew to be a very rough crossing, his welcome party arranged by Callum would be two of special branches anti - terrorism officers waiting with a helicopter. If he thought the crossing to be rough, it was nothing compared to what Harry was preparing to meter out to him at Thames House.

Amongst the elation that was sweeping the gird, one single smile as broad as an ocean was directed on Harry as he walked towards his office. In that most precious of moments, still completely unaware that in less than two weeks that they would be married, Ruth stood up and waited for him to reach her. It didn't matter that they were on the grid. It didn't matter that had his staff wanted to they could have watched them. All that mattered was that they both knew that it was over and that they could finally go home, as Harry slid open his door and took Ruth in his arms. Had they not been so wrapped up in each other, they would have seen the knowing look that passed between Catherine and Beth.

'I guess I should put you down Miss Evershed and take that lot out for a drink,' Harry eventually suggested as Ruth resurfaced and asked him what was happening behind her back and was anyone watching.

'They wouldn't dare,' Harry told her, as he looked over Ruth's shoulder and saw Catherine giving him the thumbs up and a glorious smile.

With the promise that the first round was on Harry, the barman at the George found himself besieged with an unusually large group of early afternoon customers which made finding somewhere to sit at a premium. A tenacious Beth, who having spoken to Catherine had decided that this was the ideal place to set the ball rolling, had elbowed her way through the assembled throng to a table in the corner, where she and the other wedding guests sat waiting for the soon to be bride and groom. Arriving last, everyone budged up and Ruth predictably found herself squashed in close to Harry who promptly put his arm around her shoulder. This outing themselves in front of all and sundry wasn't such a bad as she'd imagined. No one had batted an eyelid, she felt better.

'I have good news for you all,' said the already primed Harry. 'The DG has informed me that after our recent efforts that we deserve a break, which as it happens will be next weekend.'

'That's terrific,' chimed in Beth getting on the band waggon, 'because I've been invited to a friend's wedding, does anyone fancy being my plus one?'

When nobody responded, she turned her attention to Catherine and suggested that if she fancied a free weekend away with plenty of booze, then why didn't she come with her?

Harry couldn't remember the words free or booze being on his list as he looked across at his daughter.

'Clare, that's my friend, was saying that she's struggling to drum up guests, so it's a case of the more the merrier,' Beth ploughed on, praying for divine intervention from anyone that was willing to help her.

'I'll come with you if Catherine does,' suggested Dimitri, 'where is this wedding by the way?'

Despite the short rehearsal that he'd had with Catherine, there loomed the inevitability that Harry would put his foot in it. It was his and Ruth's wedding day that was under discussion and he so wanted to get it right, but he'd been caught up in the moment and in the end hadn't thought it through or quite appreciated Catherine's instructions that he needed to think before he said anything.

'As much as I'd love to, I can't,' Harry told them, 'I've been ordered to go back to Paris next weekend with the PM, realising only too late that Catherine's instructions had included mentioning this to Ruth before they reached the pub, rather than watch her crest fallen face in front of their colleagues. 'It's a flying visit for a private de briefing, otherwise I'd take you with me,' he continued in an effort to repair the damage, 'so why don't you go to this wedding with Catherine and I'll make it up to you when I get home, I promise,' he suggested.

That only left Malcolm who declared that he had never been to a wedding in his life and that he was far too old to be starting now, which resulted in an 'oh come on Malcolm don't be such a stick in the mud,' from Beth.

* * *

Let William Samson stew in his own juice for the night they'd deal with him tomorrow, had been Harry's final instructions to his staff before he'd sent them home. For the first time in nearly two weeks he was driving his own car to the safe house to collect their belongings.

'Please come with us Ruth, it won't be the same if you're not there,' was Catherine's desperate and rather obvious attempt to get Ruth to come to her own wedding, as Harry went back into the house to fetch the last of their things.


	18. Chapter 18

Harry's announcement that the DG had granted them a free weekend was about as far from the truth as was his declaration that he was making a flying visit to Paris for a debriefing with the PM. It had taken every ounce of his strength and a considerable amount of measured breathing to control his temper, when Dolby had suggested that he should have known better than to get Ruth pregnant and surely an abortion would be preferable than tying himself to a woman. Then adding that if he was stupid enough to go ahead with it, then no, section D couldn't have the weekend off to attend. Balling up his hands and knowing that punching the DG full square on his smirking face would probably result in his dismissal rather than the early retirement which he was planning, he'd reigned in his temper and reminded Dolby about a certain incident in a small alleyway in Berlin and the resulting headlines that his behaviour had caused, all of which he could easily put back on record.

'Friday through until Monday for your staff but not a moment more and a week for you and whatever her name is,' had seen him whistling his way back onto the grid and into Ruth's arms before they'd headed to the George.

The days that had followed had gone by in a flash, primarily because he'd spent a lot of time finalising the plans with Catherine, interspersed with terrorising the life out of Samson before finally dispatching him to the same secure unit that Moran was currently enjoying. Having explained to him in terrifying detail exactly what would happen to him at the hands of his less savoury inmates, were they to brand him as a child killer, which they had every intension of doing, he'd squealed like a baby, pleaded with Harry to stop and had gone on to give them a list of every contact that he'd ever worked with, in the hope of being given a much more lenient sentence.

* * *

At mid-afternoon on wedding day minus one Harry, wished them all a 'bon weekend' in deference to Jean Paul who was taking the Eurostar home to Paris, whilst he headed home to shower and change, pack his case and then prepare their dinner, before his taxi arrived to take him to the airport alias honeymoon hotel, leaving his daughter with the job of persuading Ruth the merits of attending.

The moment that they'd arrived home, in an effort to escape from Catherine and what she now considered to be a verbal bullying, Ruth declared that in order to relax she was going to take a long overdue bath. She'd only just closed her eyes and disappeared beneath the bubbles, when there was a tap on the door and Harry appeared and announced that he was going to join her. In Catherine's words, not that he was complaining, he was to convince her in any way possible. If that meant seducing Ruth in the bath the night before their wedding, he was up for the challenge. Half an hour later by which time the water had gone cold because Ruth had done almost as much seducing as Harry had, he'd almost convinced her that spending a night on her own, or maybe two if his meeting in Paris overran, wasn't what she should be doing, and that he'd feel a whole lot happier if she were to spend it with Catherine. Wrapped together in a huge fluffy white bath towel in a now steamy bathroom, Harry continued to proved to Ruth how much he was going to miss her, until she was beyond arguing and willing to agree to anything. There were however two minor hitches. She still insisted that the dress that he wanted her to wear should only be worn when they were together and her comment about the scent of the bath oil, reminded him that he'd forgotten to order any flowers.

His supposed flight was at 10pm, but by the time that his taxi arrived to whisk him away, Ruth's previously buoyant spirits had plummeted. For more than two weeks, she'd spent almost every waking and certainly sleeping hour with Harry and was shocked by how bereft she suddenly felt that she'd be spending the next couple of days on her own. Despite the fact that she'd been emotionally attached to Harry for years, she'd remained an independent spirit, yet suddenly she had this absolute need of him beyond anything that she'd ever felt. Maybe it was because she'd just heard him saying goodbye to Catherine and she and Harry had shared nothing but goodbyes, but as Catherine continued with the washing up whilst she and Harry walked to his front door, she felt the overwhelming urge to cling to him.

'I'll be fine and back in the blink of an eye, I promise you,' he told her, feeling suddenly guilty and elated in equal measure as her tiny frame pressed itself against his own broad body, kissing him for all she was worth. 'I'll ring you from the airport and from the hotel when I arrive, I love you,' he called back, as he climbed into the taxi and watched her still standing by his gate. ' You can tell me all about the wedding tomorrow, I'll call you in the evening,' and then he was gone.

It was a turning point in Ruth's perception, not only of herself but of Harry. She loved him with a burning ferocity that was overwhelming and the thought that she wouldn't see him for another couple of days, ridiculous though it was, was real. It proved without a single doubt that she couldn't live her life without him, no matter what he might have done, and that any ghosts that might have had haunted her, had finally been put to rest. How long she stood by the gate she didn't know, but Catherine calling her to come back in, broke her train of thought as she wiped her eyes and headed back into the house. For the remainder of the evening they packed their things, discussed what Beth's friend Clare and the wedding might be like and in Ruth's case made a promise to herself to make the most of it, despite her reservations. Harry was right it wasn't a good idea for her to spend the weekend on her own. She felt miserable now so heaven knows how she'd feel when Dimitri and Beth turned up in the morning and whisked Catherine away as well.

* * *

Having asked the taxi driver to pull over for a moment, Harry climbed out of the car and with the sound of traffic in the background called Ruth just before ten thirty.

'The flight's been delayed but we're just boarding,' he told her, as an indistinguishable aircraft that has just taken off from Heathrow flew overhead. 'I'll ring you when we land, I promise,' and he was gone again.

Harry was a good planner and having taken into account the flight time, disembarkation and the time that it would take to retrieve his case, he was sitting in his room at the hotel when he rang Ruth an hour and a half later, by which time she was in bed. Spending the night before their wedding in the honeymoon suite on his own wasn't his preferred choice but a necessary one. He would have much rather have been snuggled up next to Ruth, but he needed those few precious hours in the morning before the rest of them arrived, to ensure that the church, the meal for the reception and his plans for the honeymoon were exactly as he'd instructed. Flowers wouldn't be a problem at the church, it was allpart of the service the vicar had told him, but he'd completely forgotten flowers for Ruth and Catherine and button holes for everyone else.

'Leave it with me Sir,' the girl on reception had told him when he'd arrived, 'just tell me what colours you want and I'll see to it.' How the hell did he know what colours to choose, he needed to call Beth. He couldn't risk ringing Catherine, she was with Ruth.

'How was your flight, what's the hotel like and aren't you tired?' were just some of the questions from a sleepy Ruth,' who was so obviously in bed and missing him.

'The flight was fine, the hotel's lovely and yes I'm as tired as you sound, plus I miss you too, I'll speak to you tomorrow,' finished what was their last conversation, before he turned in for a night when he knew that he'd find it difficult to get to sleep. The bed, their bed tomorrow was just so empty without her, but the stage was set and somehow or other he had to dispel any last concerns that he might have made the biggest mistake of his life. He needed to sleep.

* * *

At 10 am on their wedding day, by which time Harry had enjoyed a hearty breakfast and with all fears that he had made a mistake dispelled, he was patrolling the grounds and on his way to meet the vicar. Two hours away depending on the amount of traffic, Dimitri and Beth had arrived at his house to collect his soon to be wife and daughter. Despite it being late in October it was a beautiful day with a clear sky and just a hint of the sun coming up. The wedding was at two which they had planned would give Harry enough time to give Ruth the surprise to end all surprises and for him to recover from the expletives that she was likely to throw at him. Providing that she said yes and Harry was confident that she would, then after the wedding, they would then be treated to a late lunch of sandwiches, nibbles and drinks, before a relaxed dinner with their guests in the evening.

Until they were within a mile of their destination, none of them apart from Dimitri who was driving and Harry had sent the coordinates, had any idea as to exactly where they were going and certainly not the significance, nor would they ever. But as he turned off the main road and into the village where a signpost indicated hotel and church, Ruth's heart rate increased and she stared incredulously at the road ahead. Was this some kind of sick joke, did they really not know what had happened here between her and Harry, surely this wasn't some ghastly coincidence, or was it?

'God it's beautiful, what a wonderful setting for a wedding,' were Catherine's first words as they unloaded their luggage and were shown into reception. Having been given their room keys they turned for the stairs, all except Ruth who desperate to get some air, announced that she was going for a walk. Never in her wildest imaginations had she ever thought that she'd be back here. She was standing less than fifty metres from where Harry had first proposed to her it was almost too much to take in, but worse still she couldn't tell him, he was in some bloody meeting. Desperately needing to get away from the others, in fact had she been in her own car she would have hot tailed it out of there and gone home, she headed to the one and only place that her feet would take her, the fence where she had turned him down on what had been a heart breaking day for both of them. It had been a cold day then as it was now, except that today the sun was shining.

Harry had gambled and as he watched her walk across the grass to where he knew that she would gravitate, he prayed that he'd won. Of all the places that they had ever been together this had been the most beautiful and like Ruth, one that he had never been able to forget. They were like magnets, always pulled back to what for them was special. She may have said no to him on that day, but a thousand times she had told him, and today despite the fact that he had already asked her and she'd said yes, he intended asking her again. This time by telling her that he loved her and with no mention of funerals.

It looked the same, why wouldn't it? The grass was neatly trimmed and the birds were singing as if by invitation, as Ruth leant on their fence and contemplated the months since they had last stood there. She so desperately wanted to call Harry and to say 'guess what, you'll never believe it,' but Harry wasn't there he was hundreds of miles away and unreachable. Would she have the courage to walk into the church with nobody other than herself knowing what had happened that day, she somehow doubted it. Through the confusion and the pain of revisiting her rejection of him, she knew that Harry would want her to be brave. She could almost hear his voice telling her that she could do it.

She didn't hear him until he spoke but she sensed him and spun round, as 'Marry me Ruth,' said his achingly familiar voice and his hand touched her back, just as it had done on that day.

Harry's assumption that he was in for a few than less polite expletives were so far off the mark that he laughed, as despite the seriousness of the situation Ruth flung her arms around his neck and hung on for dear life.

'Sorry,' didn't quite cut it, but it was all that he managed before she asked him if he had a handkerchief. Of course he did, it was part and parcel of his every day apparel, even when he was dressed as he was now in his casual trousers and a heavy woollen sweater. Ruth then asking him if they could just skip going to the wedding and go home, brought him back to the here and now and the fact that he still needed to tell her the reason that they were there.

'Let's do this in reverse shall we and go and have a look at the church, you might change your mind when you see it,' was his spur of the moment suggestion and the fact that he still hadn't met the vicar.

The church looked a picture and so different from the day when they'd attended Ros's funeral as Ruth sighed quietly and they sat down. Taking in the quietness and the flowers, all yellow and white, just as Catherine and Beth had arranged, she wondered why Harry who generally avoided churches like the plague, still had a broad smile on his face.

'Oh God,' said Ruth appropriately, considering where they were, as her legs turned to jelly, her hands which Harry was now holding shook violently and she actually contemplated that she might be having heart attack. Surprise, anger for the shortest of moments and then pure elation that he had gone to so much trouble were her over riding emotions as the vicar walked towards them. 'Just us' she had said to Harry and it pretty much was, with all the preparation done and without any of the fuss, that in truth she wouldn't have been able to cope with, he'd arranged their wedding.

'I told you that you needed to bring that dress,' he whispered.

* * *

By the time that they got back to the hotel, Ruth's things had been delivered to their room. There was a plate of sandwiches and a note from Catherine telling that if they needed anything that they should give her a shout. Ruth gave her a quick call to say thank you and to assure her that she hadn't murdered her father.

A wedding at this particular venue didn't come cheap and in this small village, the word was out almost as soon as the two ladies that looked after the church received their instructions from the vicar. Walking hand in hand with Harry's jacket around her shoulder's to keep out the cold, neither of them expected to walk into the church that contained not only their invited guests but a small spattering of locals. Not only that, William Towers and his not so dearly beloved were also in attendance, having declared to the cabinet that he had a friend's wedding to go to and that they'd have to manage without him for a day. He'd always had a soft spot for Harry and with the uncomfortable feeling that he was about to receive Harry's resignation, he wanted to see him in an informal setting and appreciate why.

'Wow,' whispered Beth to Dimitri, as Ruth and Harry stood side by side in front of the altar and she took in the scene that was unfolding.

Harry was dressed in a dark grey suit with a cream shirt and gold tie that was the exact match to Ruth's cream dress, but what struck Beth more than anything was just how tiny she looked in comparison to Harry. She'd invested a lot of time in watching these two and willing them to get to this moment, but without a religious bone in her body couldn't fathom out why Harry had chosen this particular venue for their wedding. Whatever his reason it felt right and the chemistry that was radiating between them was unbelievable. Ruth's hands which had been shaking were finally still and her eyes were locked on Harry's, as the vicar asked the congregation to stand.


	19. Chapter 19

'We're fine thank you,' said Harry, when the vicar enquired of them whether they were ready to begin. He'd noticed Ruth's trembling hands although that wasn't entirely unusual and there had been many a time during the hundreds of weddings that he'd conducted, that he'd had to orchestrate a pause in order that the bride or more often the groom could regain their composure. It was however far less usual to conduct a wedding where the bride and in this case the groom, were older. He'd certainly never conducted a wedding where the bride hadn't known about it until two hours before the event, so when he'd been talking to this apparently unorthodox couple, he'd felt compelled to ask her if she was certain that she wanted to go ahead. It hadn't been until then that she'd actually looked up at him with the widest bluest eyes that he'd ever seen, adamant that she did and that this should have happened years ago, that he had been convinced that this wasn't some sort of snap decision on Harry's part, born out of desperation or a mid-life crisis. By time that Harry had suggested to Ruth that they needed to go back to the hotel to get ready, they'd dispelled all his doubts and he'd found himself telling them that he was very happy for them and that he felt honoured to be officiating.

Not once during the entire ceremony did Harry fail to offer his support to Ruth, either by the way he held her gaze or by a gentle touch to her elbow or when he held her hand. So by the time that it reached the point where the vicar told Harry that he could kiss the bride, you could have heard a pin drop, such was the concentration of their congregation. Beth was so overwhelmed by what she'd been witnessing that she'd involuntarily grabbed Dimitri's arm to steady herself as Harry kissed Ruth in front of their now smiling congregation, before they walked back down the aisle and out into what was left of the sunshine.

In the inevitable hubbub of handshakes and kisses that followed, Harry never once left Ruth's side, mindful that she was shy when it came to personal compliments. The temperature had dropped appreciably and with a wind blowing it was far too chilly to take the photographs outside the church, so he suggested that they walk back the way that they had arrived until they were within the shelter of the hotel's stone walls. The previous occasion when they had walked along this path the atmosphere had been a sombre one, whereas today, it was filled with excited conversations and laughter and as far as Harry and Ruth were concerned, it felt almost surreal.

'Stop calling me Sir,' he chided Dimitri, as their last minute photographer tried to arrange their guests into the positions that he needed for the final photo, before they headed back into the warmth for something to eat and drink.

* * *

Catherine, just as Beth had, had been watching her Dad and Ruth almost without breathing. She was back in his life after years without him and in all honesty she had never seen him looking so happy. All the stress that his job heaped on him was so far removed for the happiness that was radiating out of him, that she wanted to rush over to Ruth and to give her a big hug and to say thank you. That would have to wait until later, Malcolm had got there first.

Ever the gentleman, Malcolm stepped totally out of his usual comfort zone and hugged Ruth, immediately apologising to Harry for his forwardness and with his usual wry grin saying that he couldn't help it, it had to be done.

'Hug away Malcolm,' Harry told him, winking over his shoulder at a surprised Ruth, who was trying not to giggle at what Malcolm had said, whilst enjoying every minute of the fact that Harry had actually winked at her and mercifully after the tension of the service, had relaxed. She might feel as though she could do with a stiff drink to fortify herself but she'd been a lot more relaxed than Harry, despite the fact that she hadn't been able to control her shaking hands. He'd looked positively terrified when the vicar had asked if anyone knew of any just cause or impediment, as if expecting some unknown voice to object, had they dared. It was Harry to a tee and she loved him all the more for it.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry spotted Towers, who having extracted himself from his wife for a moment was bearing down on them. If you think you're in line for a cuddle old son, forget it, Harry mumbled to himself as he stepped between Malcolm and his now wife, wrapping his arm firmly around her shoulders and whispering 'Home Secretary approaching,' words that had Malcolm scuttling away in search of Catherine.

'Harry, Ruth,' said a gushing Home Secretary, 'I hope that you don't mind me gate crashing,' had Harry picturing what would be left of a gate after Towers had crashed into it. 'A happy day indeed and not entirely unexpected,' he continued, making Harry think that perhaps Towers wasn't the buffoon that he pretended to be, as he watched him take Ruth's hand and kiss it.

'Indeed it is, but you'll have to excuse us Home Secretary, we need to circulate,' Harry told him, guiding Ruth past Towers large frame and in the direction of his daughter. He certainly didn't want to spend his day talking about work and he could tell that Towers had been fishing.

* * *

When the lunchtime nibbles were over, Harry was sorely tempted to call it a day and just take Ruth to bed and make love to her. She was his wife now with a lifetime of days and nights stretching ahead of them to do as they pleased. The only thing that was stopping him was that downstairs, or in the adjoining room to theirs, he didn't know which, Catherine and her sidekick Beth who had worked their socks off to make this day a success, were still up to something. He'd seen the knowing nods that had passed between them whilst they had been having lunch and it would be ungracious of him to spoil their fun. If it hadn't been for their help, there wouldn't have been a wedding and that was a sobering thought. Divested of his suit and Ruth of her dress, both of which had been carefully hung up waiting to be re united in just under two hours, he pulled the covers over both their naked bodies and closed his eyes. As difficult as this was going to be, he wanted to wait until it was their wedding night which was ridiculously old fashioned considering that they had been sleeping together for weeks, but you only had one wedding night and tonight was going to be theirs, after a meal with Catherine and their friends and the speech that he had practiced until he could recite it in his sleep.

Whether by telepathy or by whatever means, Ruth appeared to be agreeing with him. It was who they were, it was what they did, as she rolled over towards him, her head resting on his shoulder and with her arm slung around his waist, she closed her eyes and was soon asleep. Had it not been for a call from Catherine telling them that they had twenty minutes before the meal was being served they would have slept on, rather than having the quickest shower in living memory, Ruth panicking as she re did her makeup and telling Harry that she couldn't get her hair to do what she wanted it to despite him saying that she was beautiful, before donning their clothes again, but this time Harry minus his tie.

The meal was certainly everything that Harry had hoped it would be as was the wine, a red Medoc his own personal favourite and white Burgundy, which had no significance to anyone other than them, followed by the speeches which Ruth had been dreading as the spotlight again turned on them.

'I can truly say,' Malcolm told their audience as he asked them to raise their glasses to Ruth and to Harry, 'that these two people are my closest friends, totally deserving of each other and I wish them all the happiness in the world.'

'Remember you're not in the meeting room,' whispered Ruth more loudly than she'd intended, had the room erupting into laughter as Harry got to his feet.

Not being known for being over effusive, certainly when it came to his innermost thoughts, Harry delivered a speech that came from the heart that had not only Ruth, but Catherine and Beth as well, wishing that they'd brought a larger supply of hankies.

'Firstly I want to thank you all for being here today,' was standard and heard at most weddings, but what was to follow certainly wasn't, as his now intrigued audience sat and listened.

'Apart from Ruth and Malcolm,' he told them, 'none of you will realise that our wedding today isn't as spontaneous as it may appear. It has been years in the making, but for reasons that I won't go into, it has taken until now for it to happen. For what it's worth I'd like to offer you some advice, some I should have listened to years ago and was stupid enough to ignore. If you love someone, even an inkling of the amount that I love Ruth, then do something about it, whatever this job may demand of you at the time. You can make a life for yourself outside MI5, I know that now,' he emphasised, which sounded very much like a speech of goodbye, especially to those around the table that were members of his staff. 'Before I ask you to raise your glasses to my beautiful wife,' he told them, 'I need to thank my daughter Catherine for helping me to make this day happen, which reminds me,' he went on to tell his surprised audience, none more so than Ruth who had been expecting some sort of honeymoon, if only for a couple of nights. 'Ruth and I will be a little late arriving at work on Monday, as we have to take Catherine to the airport.'

* * *

In Harry's mind he had thought of everything, but as was about to be proved, what he hadn't, Catherine and Beth had. A dinner with their five invited guests now that Callum had arrived had been lovely, but they were damned if the evening was going to end there, especially for the bride and groom. This was a spacious house and a small room had been prepared for an after dinner party. Above all else it would ensure that Harry and Ruth would dance together for a second time, something that Catherine had been hell bent on happening, ever since her Dad had told her the reason why he wanted Ruth to wear that dress. But you couldn't really hold a party with only seven people, so they had enlisted the help of the now very obliging hotel manager. As the seven other couples who were staying there that night had arrived and registered, they'd been told that amongst their other guests there was a small wedding party. Weddings were to be celebrated, this was a wedding venue and they needed to up the numbers.

So as they exited the small dining room with Harry bidding them all goodnight and with Ruth's hand now firmly in his and his mind set firmly on them returning to bed, he was greeted by a sea of smiling faces, none of which were inviting him to take Ruth upstairs and consummate their marriage. As the hotel's proprietor marshalled them past the foot of the stairs and suggested that further drinks and coffee awaited them in a private room beyond the bar, the still unsuspecting bride and groom, were ushered into a yet to be visited part of the hotel where there was not only music playing, but what amount to several other couples all of whom seemed to be having a party and enjoying themselves.

'Oh Christ,' thought Harry, realising that Catherine had picked up on his comment about Ruth's dress and had assumed that he wanted to re - enact the performance. Well he did. In fact at that particular moment he wanted nothing more than to take Ruth in his arms and dance with her, but would she be able to cope with it, in a room full of people, some of whom were still their colleagues?

* * *

In all the years that he had known and loved Ruth, his memories that ran into hundreds had been mixed. Over time, he had schooled himself to eradicate most of those that had brought him pain and instead he'd concentrated on those few and far between that had brought him joy. Aside from today and the three weeks that had preceded their wedding, one special evening shone brighter than all the rest. It had been years ago, the day before Jo's birthday when Adam had arranged an impromptu party and for whatever reason he'd been persuaded to attend. He'd suspected at the time that it had something to do with a wager that Adam and Zaf were having, and if it was, then one of them had come away smiling. For almost the entire evening he'd barely been able to hold himself back from making what he had then deemed to have been an unwise advance towards Ruth, until late into the evening when everyone else had been dancing and they were still sitting side by side on the couch like a couple of lemons.

'Come on you two,' had said a passing Adam, as though asking Ruth to dance was the simplest thing in the world. He had and when Ruth had said yes, it had been the turning point, from which for him there was no way back. She was his analyst and the way that he'd felt that evening had him breaking all the rules that he had ever preached, both to himself and to his staff, but he was in her thrall and there had been nothing that he could have done to change it.

Four years later, she was wearing that same dress and now they were the ones that were expected to start the dancing. He'd been a twinkle toes in his youth but dancing had changed since those days. It didn't have to be showy anymore and just as he had done on that night, he'd be able to hold Ruth as close to him as he liked, but this time as his wife. He could picture the situation had Adam and Zaf been there now and how Zaf particularly, would have grinned unmercifully had he been able to see them.

Catherine and Beth had jointly chosen the music with one very specific and dated song that said everything about how they perceived Harry's and Ruth's relationship to be. It was Catherine's final duty of the day and the one that she had most been looking forward to, as she walked across the room and whispered in her Dad's ear, that this was his special moment and that she'd chosen this song especially for them.

' _Wise men say only fools rush in,' sang Elvis as the lights dimmed, 'but I can't help falling in love with you. Should I stay would it be a sin, but I can't help falling in love with you. Like a river flows surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be. Take my hand, take my whole life too, cause I can't help falling in love with you,'_ had Harry taking Ruth's hand and guiding her gently to the centre of the floor. They didn't need words to say how they were feeling as every fibre of Harry's being beat in unison with Ruth. As he wrapped his right arm around her and pulled her close, his left hand took her right, and buried them into his chest. It was a display of pure adoration worthy of applause but none was forthcoming, as people just simply joined them in dancing and the couple in the centre of the room closed their eyes and lost themselves in each other.

* * *

To one side of the room at a small table, their colleagues sat and watched as Callum and Dimitri boarded exactly the same train as Beth and Catherine. This was a dance that indicated a goodbye to MI5 and a new life in a different world, it was truly beautiful.

'Surely they're not planning on coming into work on Monday morning are they?' Dimitri asked Catherine, who was sharing one final surprise that she and her Dad had planned, but couldn't tell them.


	20. Chapter 20

'I'm very pleased about that,' Harry whispered, as the song came to an end and Ruth finally took a breath and announced that she didn't want to move. It was proving far more difficult to walk off the dance floor than it had been walking on, especially for Ruth who was completely wrapped up in Harry's arms and wanted to stay there forever. Safe and blissfully happy and married to the man that she craved with every bone in her body, why would she want to move? By this time they were surrounded by other couples and when the music changed and it was yet another slow love song, one that Ruth particularly liked, Harry was more than happy to oblige. Her dream that they might be going somewhere romantic where they could dance until dawn and then tumble into bed, abandoning all propriety without interruption, had been somewhat dimmed by Harry's announcement that they would be going back to work on Monday. Ruth liked dancing or to be precise she liked dancing with Harry. It was highly arousing and to boot, totally legal in public. They certainly wouldn't be able to dance like this next Monday when they returned to real life and the grid and as nobody looked as though they were watching them anymore, she wanted to make the most of what was left of the evening and if that meant doing it here, then she intended to enjoy it.

Catherine and Beth, who had despatched Callum and Dimitri in search of another round of drinks, were huddled round a table in a dark corner of the room. Malcolm was deep in conversation with the hotel's proprietor who had popped in for a moment, to ensure that the evening was going as planned, so they were finally on their own.

'Is your Dad seriously planning on dragging Ruth into work on Monday?' Beth asked, with a quick look around to make sure that no one was within earshot and a nod towards the centre of the room, where her boss and his analyst were wrapped together in a state of 'she wasn't quite sure how to describe it.'

'Of course he bloody isn't, but if I tell you, you have to swear to me that you won't tell anybody,' whispered Catherine,' who still couldn't quite believe how her usually unimaginative Dad, had planned not only this wonderful wedding but his honeymoon as well.

'Oh my God,' said Beth, when Catherine went on to explain that it was while he'd kept Ruth occupied in the bath the other evening, that she'd spent the time frantically packing their cases. The Oh my God comment from Beth, actually related to the picture that had formed in her mind of Harry and Ruth in the bath together and nothing to do with the elaborate ruse that Harry had come up with in his attempt to organise a surprise honeymoon. Beth had slept with more than her fair share of men, none of whom had ever floated her boat as Harry apparently did for Ruth, but lucky old Ruth she thought, she was pleased for them.

'You seem to be taking all this very well, considering how much younger Ruth is than your dad,' Beth pressed on, curious to find out how Catherine really felt about the wedding and about Harry's previous life when Catherine had been younger.

'How can I not, just look at them,' Catherine came back at her, nodding in the direction of the couple still dancing, long after the music had stopped. 'He's always had this huge capacity to love people, but since he and my Mum split up, he's kept it buried. I call it his self-preservation skin, so nobody could ever perceive him to have a weakness or hurt him. Ruth has changed all that, she's lovely.'

Yes she is thought Beth. It was a simple but perfect word to describe Ruth, as the realisation that she was losing not only her flat mate, but that but Catherine was about to depart for foreign climes as well.

'I'm really going to miss you do you know that,' Beth told her, 'when is it that you're going back?'

'What and miss out on Dad's future, I'm not, but I haven't told him yet, I'm leaving that little surprise until after they get home,' had Beth smiling. She had grown close to Catherine without even realising it until now.

'You should join the service, you're far better than I am at this spying thing,' Beth told her laughing, as Dimitri and Callum arrived back with their drinks.

* * *

The inevitable end of the evening or to be more precise the start of the new day dawning was heralded by the clock in the hall striking midnight as their additional guests headed off for bed. Malcolm had long disappeared leaving the youngsters and the newly married Harry and Ruth to thank their hostess for her efforts and then to wish each other goodnight with the promise to meet up for breakfast.

Tired, blissfully happy and with a last thank you to his daughter, Harry opened the door to their room and then locked it behind them. The talking had stopped as had the music, but in their minds and certainly with what Harry had planned, the dance had only just begun. Slowly, just as he had imagined it to be, Harry Pearce, falsely maligned and much talked about seducer of women, made love to the only woman that he had ever truly loved. It was slow, measured and with more consideration than Ruth believed him to be capable of as he brought her to new heights that until that night, she had only ever read about in books. Her body was on fire with the need of him, mainly due to the fact that he had kissed and played a tune with his fingers on virtually every inch of her body that was available to him, until she was pleading with him to bring her to another climax. As difficult as this was for him, such was his want of her by now, he still kept her waiting until she arched herself backwards one final time, gasping that her head was going to explode such was the emotion that he had aroused in her.

'I love you Ruth,' he told his now shuddering wife, as he placed a pillow under her back before plunging them both into a glorious oblivion, with memories that would last them a lifetime.

In the rooms that surrounded theirs, their colleagues, friends and Catherine had long been asleep, oblivious to what was had transpired as Harry and Ruth still coupled together with their eyes now closed, consummated their marriage.

* * *

'Now,' said Beth to Catherine, who had seen the completely sated and trying not to grin newlyweds walk into the already full dining room, where the rest of them were tucking into their breakfasts and had been for some time.

'It's a real pain, but it's what airlines do these days,' she said loud enough for everyone to hear, as Harry pulled back Ruth's chair, before sitting down in the chair next to hers that they'd left for them.

'What's a pain?' asked Harry, knowing full well what Catherine had been going to say, which at this stage Ruth didn't and her heart sank even further.

'My flight tomorrow has been cancelled, I've got to go today instead,' she told them, 'which means that I'll need a lift, I need to be at the airport by three o'clock.'

'Beth and I can take you, can't we,' offered Dimitri, assuming that he was being helpful which he wasn't, although it did bolster the content of the already planned conversation.

'That's very thoughtful of you Dimitri, but we'll take Catherine won't we?' Harry confirmed to Ruth, who by now was now visualising their one and only day before they would be going back to work, being shredded by hours.

Harry felt the vibes and for a moment almost weakened, but he was so close to realising what he had promised her all those years ago that he stayed silent, apart from asking Ruth what she wanted for her breakfast.

Catherine had also noticed the slump in Ruth's shoulders and looked across at Harry with the suggestion in her eyes that perhaps this was a step too far, but a slight shake of his head told her that he was still prepared to take the risk of a total roasting at the airport. She'd obviously told Beth he realised, appreciating the one flaw in his plan that Catherine wasn't insured to drive his car home, whereas Beth was. So while Ruth ate her toast and marmalade dreaming of a takeaway and an early night before they walked back onto the grid, Harry mentally rechecked their itinerary for the remainder of the day, evening and the week ahead. Towers would receive his letter of resignation on Monday morning, not totally unexpected he imagined and the DG his recommendation that Callum should replace him as section head. He'd seen enough of the young man's management skills and intuition to feel confident enough to suggest it was the best option, besides what happened from now on wasn't his concern.

* * *

'I'll drive,' said Beth,' as they loaded their cases, more in an effort to convince Harry that she wasn't going to bend his car on the drive back from the airport, as she and Catherine climbed into the front which left Harry and Ruth the comfort at the back.

Had Ruth not been on another planet and still recovering from the night before and Harry's ministrations, she might have realised how contrived this all was, but she was tired, resigned to the fact that theirs was to be a wedding without a honeymoon and wanted to go back to sleep. Heathrow beckoned and a goodbye to Catherine which she knew for Harry was going to be difficult so she needed to be supportive and not mentally grumble about their situation. Without Catherine's help, Harry would never have been able to manufacture their wedding or if he had, it wouldn't have been filled with the wonderful surprises that had unfolded.

They had reached the booking lounge when Beth announced that she needed to use the ladies and Ruth decided that rather than stand and watch Harry say goodbye to his daughter, she ought to give them a moment on their own. Giving Catherine a huge hug, she told Harry that she loved him and that she and Beth would wait for him in Costa.

'Order one for me please would you?' a straight faced Beth asked her, before leaving Ruth on her own and heading across the concourse in the direction of the main door.

No more than fifty metres away from where Ruth was sitting, their cases had been checked in and Harry had two boarding passes in his pocket. It was forty five minutes before boarding and he was alone with Catherine.

'Have a wonderful time and give Ruth my apologies if she hasn't already left you,' she said kissing him. 'I'll keep an eye on the house and no I won't have a party, well maybe just a small one,' she kidded her now smiling and excited Dad, before she headed back out to his car to join Beth.

Beth had been gone for nearly fifteen minutes and during that time, the coffees had gone cold and Ruth had been fixated on the departure board. Tel Aviv had reached last chance boarding, so Catherine must have gone, so where the hell was Harry and more specifically what had happened to Beth. She was just at the point where panic was staring to kick in when a pair of boarding cards and a brochure for a hotel overlooking the Seine landed on the table in front of her, followed by two hands being gently planted on the shoulders and a voice that mirrored honey, suggesting that perhaps they should get moving.

The Ruth Evershed of a few weeks ago when they had sat side by side on the aeroplane heading for the talks that had ultimately resulted in Tariq's death, would have called him a bastard. But this was as close as it came to a 'what a difference a day makes' scenario and this Ruth Evershed loved Harry without reservation and forgave him his deception. It helped that only Catherine had been party to his plan and that Beth had only been roped in at the last moment, she would have hated the thought that everyone had been laughing behind her back. It was this Ruth that had walked with her hand linked through his arm to the boarding area and onto the plane, still totally unbelieving that they were going back to Paris.

She didn't need to be told by the pilot that they were making their descent into Charles de Galle airport, it was as familiar to her as was the man that was leaning across her and pointing to the twinkling lights along either side of the Seine, where there were dozens of cars heading to who knows where, one of which would be meeting them at the airport. When Harry arranged this trip he had thought of everything and his and Ruth's honeymoon was going to be enjoyed in style. Completely unused to pampering, but something that she was going to have to get used to for at least a week Harry told her, their hotel although small and less flashy than some that he could have booked was French to a tee, and in Ruth's eyes perfect. The foyer opened out onto a broad pavement with a footbridge across the Seine and it was here that two hours later, they found themselves walking hand in hand in search of somewhere to have dinner.

When they reached the centre of the bridge, the bite in the air increased. A sure sign that Winter was well and truly on its way. A few snowflakes had started to fall, one of which had settled on Ruth's nose. As she giggled and made to move it, Harry caught her arm and turned her towards him. They were in the city deemed to be the most romantic on earth and for the first time since they had met, they were somewhere where nobody knew them. Passers- by took no notice, every other couple in Paris was a tourist and even those that weren't, kissed each other unashamedly in public.

'Happy?' Harry asked her, after they had pulled out of the kiss. It was the most ridiculous question, but it seemed appropriate and he was mirroring his own emotion.

'Before I answer that,' she asked him, kissing him again, 'are there any more surprises tucked up your sleeve?'

'Only one and I'll tell you about that over dinner,' was said with a pat on his pocket where a copy of his resignation letter to Towers was nestling.

* * *

Unfortunately as is always the case when life presents you with that rare chance to forget the reality of everyday living, their final day in Paris loomed large and they were both adamant that they needed to go home before Catherine went back to Israel. So on their last day with lunch booked in a restaurant overlooking Notre Dame, they had chosen to walk the last mile to reach it, rather than to take their usual taxi. The forecast for the day was good and the footpath along the side of the Seine was crowded with tourists and those locals, lucky enough not to have to go to work on what had been the sunniest day for weeks.

'The Thames or the Seine, marks out of ten?' Harry asked her, as they stopped for a moment to sit on a bench and take in the view and to enjoy the coffees that they had bought from one of the street vendors.

'For a honeymoon, the Seine,' was Ruth's answer and so obviously the one that Harry wanted to hear. They'd had a magical week, a lot of which had been recorded to show Catherine, since Harry had eventually mastered his new camera. The Thames would always be special it would always be theirs no matter where else they might go in the future, they both knew that, but for one final day Paris belonged to them. As Ruth sighed, turning her face to the sun, Harry stirred.

A small girl, she couldn't have been more than two was sitting on her father's knee on the adjoining bench, her parents oblivious to the fact that she had dropped her teddy bear amongst the pigeons. Harry was up in a flash from where they were sitting and as Ruth turned and watched him, he handed it back to this tiny girl, with the most wistful of smiles on his face. As the girl's parents stopped Harry's progress back to her by thanking him, Ruth felt as though her heart would stop beating. It was a 'what if' moment.

* * *

I have enjoyed writing this story, possibly more than any other and have left it at a point where a sequel is already bouncing around in my head. I thank all of you who have stuck with it and posted reviews, they mean everything. CA.


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